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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24785614">Dragon Bait and Orc Prey</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/harrypanther/pseuds/harrypanther'>harrypanther</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Crime Fighting, Drama, Gangs, M/M, Mob Boss Smaug, References to Drugs, Stalking (references), The Company are Cops</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:41:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>48,567</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24785614</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/harrypanther/pseuds/harrypanther</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern AU: Librarian Bilbo Baggins find his unwilling attempt at online dating has landed him with a stalker in the form of Smaug, a furious and very sinister mob boss. Enter the Company, Erebor Police’s top organised crime team. An unwilling  mission of close protection takes to turn for the worse and suddenly the entire team are fighting for their lives.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>176</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter One</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Disclaimer: The Hobbit was written by JRR Tolkien. The rights to the Hobbit films remain with New Line.</p><p>Any errors in police procedure, legal matters, geography or any other related matter are intentional or for dramatic effect.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>ONE:</b>
</p><p> </p><p>“We’ve got a nice routine case for you.”</p><p> </p><p>Not the most encouraging wordsto be greeted with first thing on a Monday Morning but Thorin Oakenshield acknowledged Bard’s words with a grunt as he made his way to his desk. Always the first in, Thorin was wedded to his job as leader of the Company, the elite organised crime unit of Erebor Police for many personal reasons but mostly because he was really hoping one day to take down the bastards who had done so much harm to his city and his family. He turned to glance at Bard-the Senior Station Officer and his nominal superior, his piercing sapphire glare calculating.</p><p> </p><p>“Since when was anything routine in this business?” Thorin asked quietly, his tone dry. Bard shrugged.</p><p> </p><p>“As routine as you can get,” Bard murmured. He stretched, a shoulder cracking at the effort. “Round up your team. The briefing is in thirty.” He tossed a file onto the desk and Thorin snagged it, opening it and staring at an unfamiliar face. He sighed and began to read.</p><p> </p><p>By the time the other twelve members of the unit had assembled, Thorin was familiar enough with the material to take the briefing and he swiftly led them into the seminar room. And then he faced his motley crew.</p><p> </p><p>Thorin was regal, tall and self-possessed, his long raven hair very lightly streaked with grey and piercing blue eyes looking over a sharp nose and handsome face. His beard was neatly trimmed and he favoured dark blue and black. In fact, he wouldn't look out of place in a bank-unlike the rest of the group who would look out of place...well, probably everywhere and didn't care at all. He folded his arms across his chest and watched his Company array themselves loudly and with much grumbling.</p><p> </p><p>“We were contacted early this morning through a report of stalking,” he began without preamble. There were universal groans.</p><p> </p><p>“Stalkers are the worst!” Fili Vilison protested. One of the youngest in the group, the blond young officer was bright and responsible…unless he was being egged on by his younger brother, Kili. Both were in their first six months on the unit, allowed to join in a probationary capacity despite their inexperience due to lack of interest from anyone else for the replacement postings and their relationship to Thorin, who was their uncle. Kili rolled his blue eyes, his dark hair messy as usual.</p><p> </p><p>“Completely,” he said with the assurance of someone who had never been on a stalking case. A volley of jeers and yells greeted his comment.</p><p> </p><p>“Silence!” Thorin growled and the room fell silent. Though they were lively and outspoken, they all respected his authority and twelve pairs of eyes turned to him. He tapped his laptop and an image appeared on the screen behind him.</p><p> </p><p>“This is Bilbo Baggins,” he began. The face of a youngish man looked back, framed by loose honey curls and looking pleasant and kindly. “Thirty three, librarian at the University of Erebor, resident at 103, Dale Apartments, Erebor but originally from the Shire. Parents dead in car wreck five years ago, no siblings, no partner. Next of kin, one Drogo Baggins of Bag End, Hobbiton.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sounds the real life and soul of the party,” Dwalin growled. A massive stump of a man with tattooed bald head and a permanent scowl, he was one Thorin’s Company’s enforcers, an expert in tactics and most forms of weaponry.</p><p> </p><p>“Apparently others thought that as well,” Thorin continued. “He joined an online dating site two months ago. After a few weeks, he matched and after messaging back and forth, he went on his first date last week.”</p><p> </p><p>“With?” Balin asked. He was the oldest of the company, his eyes twinkling in his lined face. His hair was white and a full forked white beard reached his mid chest: astute and diplomatic, he had consistently declined all suggestions to retire.</p><p> </p><p>“Drago Smaug,” Thorin announced. The image of the thin-faced man with golden eyes and short dark red hair stared hatefully back at them. There were gasps and exhales.</p><p> </p><p>“Suddenly the stalker makes more sense,” Bofur murmured.</p><p> </p><p>“They went on one date to ‘the Gold Depository’ restaurant up on Erebor Heights,” Thorin continued. “Baggins reported that Smaug seemed fascinated by him but the feeling was not mutual and he declined a second date. Smaug…did not take rejection lightly. He began bombarding Baggins with texts-over two thousand at the last count…”</p><p> </p><p>“In a week?” Gloin muttered. Thorin nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“His apartment was broken into and flowers were left everywhere-black roses and lilies,” he continued. “Baggins felt he was being followed. His post was opened. And first thing this morning, his cat, Myrtle, was found dead on the doorstep. She had been disembowelled and a black rose laid on her corpse.” There were looks of disgust on every face.</p><p> </p><p>“That is a pretty fast escalation,” Dori muttered.</p><p> </p><p>“Smaug is a man with a history of getting what he wants and not tolerating any dissent,” Thorin reminded them and the image changed again. “We have known him for years as the Head of the FireWyrm Crime Family…</p><p> </p><p>“…allied with the Gundabad Gang, Yeah, we know!” Dwalin grumbled. Thorin cast him a pointed glance. Giving any sort of briefing to the Company was an extended exercise in patience and though he was a very patient man, he sometimes thought his team did it on purpose.</p><p> </p><p>“He’s evaded all efforts to dismantle his organisation for years. But this is a miscalculation!” Thorin’s face grew more animated. “Finally, we have a felony we can use as a legitimate legal means to investigate his entire operation…and maybe…we can finally bring him down.”</p><p> </p><p>A silence fell over the Company. No matter that they were brash, rude, insubordinate, hard-headed, independent and fierce, the were all ferociously loyal to Thorin, their leader and friend and they knew the history all too well. For him, any mission involving Smaug and Gundabad was deeply personal. Balin cleared his throat.</p><p> </p><p>“Aye, laddie-maybe we can-but let’s focus on saving this Bilbo Baggins first, hmm?” he suggested in his kindly voice. The spell was broken and everyone moved again, with shuffling of feet and clearing of throats. Thorin nodded, a scowl descending over hisfeatures.</p><p> </p><p>“Balin-you, Fili, Kili and I will go see this Baggins,” he said firmly. “Dwalin, Dori, Bifur-security. The rest of you-make your preparations and head for location 23. This isn’t going to be easy and we may need to go off grid for a period of time. We’ll meet at Bree in two hours.”</p><p> </p><p>The room cleared but Balin paused, waiting as Thorin closed his laptop and switched off the projector. If he took a little longer than usual, it almost certainly wasn’t because he wanted to delay whatever Balin had to say for him. But finally he looked up, his expression carefully neutral.</p><p> </p><p>“Balin?” he said, his voice wary. The older man sighed.</p><p> </p><p>“I know you hope this may be the back door, the key to getting Smaug but please remember this isn’t about you,” he said. He sighed. “Remember in this, there is a young man who never asked for any of this and seems to be in the cross-hairs of the man you have been pursuing for fifteen years. I don’t think he signed up to be fixated on by a psychopathic mob boss…”</p><p> </p><p>“He signed up…” Thorin mumbled.</p><p> </p><p>“And I very much doubt Smaug’s profile listed his occupation as ‘mobster, multiple murderer and general calamity of Erebor’ or his interests as ‘stalking, murder, people trafficking, drugs, genocide and crochet’.” Thorin raised an eyebrow. “He does crochet,” Balin repeated. “One of the very few pieces of intel we have on him.” Folding his arms, Thorin scowled again.</p><p> </p><p>“I will try to remember,” he conceded gruffly. “I will do my job, Balin. I don’t want there to be any more victims either.” Recognising the limits of his powers of persuasion, Balin nodded. He clapped his Chief on the shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>“Now let’s go and see the laddie,” he said.</p><p> </p><p>-o0o-</p><p> </p><p>William Robert ‘Bilbo’ Baggins was having an incredibly bad day. It had just topped an awful week that had come at the end of…well, a dismal decade, to be honest. But the last straw had been finding poor old Myrtle, murdered.</p><p> </p><p>He closed his eyes and tried to expunge the image from his memory with little success. He was still trembling even hours later and he was not ashamed to admit that he had spent the few minutes after finding her in a mixture of fainting and vomiting interspersed with screams that had brought his neighbours running, along with the police. And then he had ended…here. Sitting in a police interrogation room with a polystyrene cup of very poor quality tea and some plastic-tasting crumbly mess that had been claimed as a Danish pastry, wondering if he had been forgotten. He shuffled his feet. On top of his previous complaints to the cops of the break-ins and the stalking, they had plucked him from his home without a by-your-leave and all he had was what he was sitting in, a plastic bag containing his washbag, computer, phone and the picture of his parents and cousins. And then they had left him here on his own for the last couple of hours.</p><p> </p><p>He rubbed his temples, feeling a headache starting. How he wished he had not let Rakla Forkbeard in the Library persuade him that he needed to try a new start and attempt dating! Really, he was <em>completely</em> fine being alone, really he was. Since his parents had passed, he had become used to solitude. Several of his relatives thought him odd anyway and the Sackville-Bagginses couldn’t resist making barbed swipes at him at any family ‘Do’ so he had gradually weaned himself off them until he just exchanged cards at Yule and birthdays and only really saw his cousins Prim, Drogo and of course, their tiny son Frodo. But out of work, he tended to read at home and avoid social situations and he had been dragged unwillingly to all library social ‘Does’ by Rakla and her coworkers, Estella and Pansy who had worked on him until he had finally signed up for the thrice-accursed online dating site.</p><p> </p><p>He groaned. They had spent the entire time persuading him that there was no way he wouldn’t find a ‘nice girl’ on the site who could make him happy. Except a ‘nice girl’ was the last thing he wanted so he had nodded and signed up…and then agonised over his profile for days. In the end, he opted for complete honesty because what was the point in advertising himself as something he wasn’t? And what was the point of dating someone who was only interested in a fake version of Bilbo? He was an unadventurous, moderately social-phobic, ancient language major who worked in a University library and not some hero, adventurer or flashy type. And if there wasn’t someone out there for him, then so be it. But what he hadn’t counted in was that other people would be less than honest on their profiles…</p><p> </p><p>He almost jumped out of his seat as the door opened and four people walked into the room. Instinctively he stiffened, feeling very vulnerable and outnumbered. But then a flash of his stubborn Tookish blood reared its head so he lifted his chin defensively and stared at the newcomers-all of whom were inspecting him with various degrees of interest. There were two much younger men hanging back, one blond and one dark haired with a similarity in their features that suggested kinship. Both had the standard beards for Erebroeans, the younger’s a rather scrappy affair and both were relaxed in casual jeans, sweaters and denim jackets. An older man-shorter than the others-was smiling benignly over his long forked white beard, his kindly expression reassuring. He seemed to be wearing a long winter coat even though it was summer. But the leader-and easily the tallest of the officers-drew the eye. His piercing blue eyes inspected Bilbo with cold interest, dominating handsome features framed by long raven hair, streaked lightly with grey. His bearing was regal and upright as he settled in the chair opposite Bilbo, his expression stern. He was dressed in an expensively tailored black suit with a deep blue shirt, open at the neck and Bilbo felt his pulse accelerate.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Why couldn’t this guy have been on the website instead of Smaug?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>He mentally slapped himself and waited for the officer to speak.</p><p> </p><p>“Bilbo Baggins.” The voice was deep and measured as well. A voice he could listen to all night. Well, this was going to be dreadful. “I am Thorin Oakenshield, leader of the Company.” Bilbo frowned. “We are the unit assigned with investigation your case and ensuring your safety.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah.” Thorin’s eyes narrowed at the tone.</p><p> </p><p>“First we need to go over a few things…” he said professionally.</p><p> </p><p>“Like how it’s my own fault for going on that website?” Bilbo found himself snarking back. Thorin’s face froze-almost as if he had been caught out. “That’s pretty much what all the other officers have said-or implied. My own fault for advertising for a date. For matching with someone who clearly lied about himself on his profile. I mean, I wouldn’t have ‘liked’ someone who listed stalking, breaking into people’s homes and murdering their cats as a potential date!”</p><p> </p><p>There was an awkward pause almost broken by muffled sniggering from the younger officers. The white-bearded officer hissed an admonition to the them in Khuzdul.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“Respect, lads. At least pretend you’re adults.”</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“I understand this has been difficult for you,” Thorin said stiffly. Bilbo narrowed his eyes. “And no, none of this is your fault. The man who is pursuing you is the only guilty party. You have a right to…seek companionship in any legal way you can without being hounded by a psychopath.”</p><p> </p><p>There was a pause and then Bilbo relaxed a fraction.</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks. Yes. I’m sorry,” he managed. “I guess finding Myrtle like that was…horrible. really horrible. She was a complete softie…she’s never harmed anyone or anything and she was just…” He stopped and Thorin exhaled.</p><p> </p><p>“Can I just check a couple of facts?” he asked gravely. Bilbo nodded, his hands visibly trembling. “You registered for the website from your personal computer? You didn’t use an open or university terminal?” Bilbo shook his head.</p><p> </p><p>“Contrary to what it looks like, I am actually a really private person,” he sighed. “And no, I didn’t want anyone else to know.”</p><p> </p><p>“You communicated solely through the messaging function of the website?”</p><p> </p><p>“Absolutely.”</p><p> </p><p>“And you never revealed your address, phone number or personal email?”</p><p> </p><p>“No.” Then Bilbo sighed. “Look, when we messaged, he seemed…okay. Not perfect but I haven’t really dated for…years. A long time. So I thought it would be nice to go out with someone who seemed to share some interests and…well, I agreed to go on a date.”</p><p> </p><p>“And what were your aims?” Thorin asked him, scanning his face. “Friendship? Romance? Sexual relationship? Casual hookup?”</p><p> </p><p>Bilbo flushed to the tips of his ears. For someone who had spent most of his life burying his personal feelings and shying away from overtly discussing his sexuality, relationships or anything personal, hearing the words spoken bluntly by this remote and ridiculously attractive man made him feel about an inch tall.</p><p> </p><p>“I was really just looking to see if I could find someone…to go out with. A friend…maybe more, maybe not. Certainly nothing…casual or…” His voice petered out and the white-haired officer cleared his throat.</p><p> </p><p>“Thorin…” he warned.</p><p> </p><p>“So he had no legitimate means of finding out your personal details,” Thorin said quietly. “And you declined further contact.”</p><p> </p><p>“The moment I met him, I realised it was a mistake,” Bilbo admitted. “He was nothing like he said he was. There was something…terribly off. He felt…cruel, insincere…dark…” He sighed. “He made my skin crawl, to be honest. I only finished the date to be…polite. And because I thought walking out might be a mistake…”</p><p> </p><p>“Meeting him was the mistake,” Thorin told him bluntly and then shook his head. “But you are correct. He may not have permitted you to walk away.” Then he glanced up. “We need to get you to a safe location. My men are preparing it as we speak.” Bilbo sighed.</p><p> </p><p>“Can I go back and get…?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m afraid not, laddie,” the white-haired officer said. “Balin Fundinson, by the way." He cast Thorin a pointed glare that he completely ignored. "Smaug is likely to have your home under surveillance and returning there would grant him the opportunity to track you-and find you.” Bilbo stared at him.</p><p> </p><p>“You think he’s that dangerous?’ he asked.</p><p> </p><p>“He’s taken your rejection as an invitation to ignore your wishes,” Thorin told him in a low growl. “The rate of escalation and the violence shown indicate he is likely to disregard all concerns for your safety-and for your life and liberty.” He looked up and sighed. “The others are Fili and Kili.” He gestured to the younger officers.</p><p> </p><p>“At your service, Master Baggins,” the two younger officers said in unison-and Bilbo found himself dredging up a small smile at their enthusiastic grins. Thorin rose and nodded. “Come,” he said. “The longer we tarry, the more likely Smaug is to have this station under surveillance.” And with that, he rose and swept out, the others following. Balin glanced over his shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>“Come on, lad,” he said encouragingly. “Thorin may be a little…taciturn…but he and the Company will do everything in their power to keep you safe.” Bilbo swallowed.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you sure that’s necessary?” he asked. With an apologetic smile, Balin nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“Absolutely,” he said. Rolling his eyes, Bilbo rose, grabbed the pathetic plastic bag that contained all he appeared to be allowed of his possessions and followed them.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter Two</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>TWO:</b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Being driven through the outskirts of Erebor was not what Bilbo had been expecting when he woke up that morning. He had been due to take delivery of a few copies of the new edition of ‘Interpretations of Quenyan Fables’ for the Mythology Section and was hoping for time for a not-at-all exciting trip to the coffee shop to try the new Cinnamon Maple Latte and a white chocolate and raspberry muffin. Now his cat was dead, he was on the run and he was crammed between Fili and Kili who were making a whole series of unhelpful comments about previous stalker cases that all seemed to have ended rather badly.</p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t helping his headache.</p><p> </p><p>“Enough!” Thorin snapped from the driver’s seat. “You know nothing of those cases. If you cannot contribute anything of value, be silent!”</p><p> </p><p>“We meant no harm,” Kili said in a chastened voice.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, you certainly didn’t help Mr Baggins,” Balin cut in. “He looks terrified.”</p><p> </p><p>“No-Bilbo is just fine,” Fili cut in swiftly, nudging Bilbo in the ribs. “He’s just a little…”</p><p> </p><p>“Terrified is the right word,” Bilbo said quietly. “I’m a Librarian! The most excitement I expect is an argument about the fine for a late return or a coffee mug ring on a book! Maybe even illegal pizza eating among the stacks…not being stalked by a cat murderer!”</p><p> </p><p>“When you put it like that…” Fili conceded as they accelerated through the warehouse district.</p><p> </p><p>“Um…how many of you are there?” Bilbo asked.</p><p> </p><p>“The Company numbers thirteen,” Balin explained. “Thorin is our leader. Most of us have been with him since the beginning. Every man is loyal and proven in battle. And we know Smaug’s organisation.” He paused. “We have three younger members. Ori is our scribe, our intel and IT officer. And Fili and Kili are on probation.”</p><p> </p><p>“You really don’t say,” Bilbo snarked.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey…” Kili protested as Balin started laughing. Glancing up, Bilbo could see Thorin’s lips had twitched up in a smile at the comment.</p><p> </p><p>“Dwalin, Dori and Bifur are reliable and seasoned officers with above average combat and tactical capabilities. Bofur and Nori are great at infiltration and handling sources. Bombur has skills with chemicals and explosives, Oin with poisons and medical matters and Gloin is a financial expert with the mind of a forensic accountant. But we are all experienced law enforcement officers and when we pledge ourselves to a mission, we never give up.”</p><p> </p><p>Bilbo swallowed, digesting the words. Erebor was a different place to the Shire of his birth, an isolated and insular land of secretive customs, an all-but impenetrable language and stubborn adherence to ancient mores and customs. But Ereboreans were also renowned for being brave, loyal and determined, though most others were prejudiced against them for their wariness of strangers. Bilbo’s studies during his degrees had meant he had learnt of some of the sorrows and tragedies that had befallen the old kingdom and in his heart, he couldn’t blame them for their caution around strangers.</p><p> </p><p>“That…is reassuring,” he admitted as they swept out onto the arrow-straight road towards the west and then he fell silent as Balin and Thorin chatted in Khudzul. Their words were low and serious and though Bilbo could catch most of what was being said, he gave little sign he understood their conversation: most of it was beyond him and technical so he stared at the grey-green landscape that whizzed by as they descended to the lower plains and the small commercial town of Bree. Finally, they sped round the ring road and inserted to the south, sliding through warehouses and lorry parks to a commercial unit marked ‘Son of Ur Fabrications.’ Finally, they pulled to a halt.</p><p> </p><p>“We’re here,” Thorin announced and clambered out, marching off and expecting the others to follow. With a sigh, Bilbo trudged after them.</p><p> </p><p>They walked in through a single side door and up a utilitarian flight of creaky metal stairs to an upper level, the groaning of the steps loud in the velvety silence as they rounded the corner…</p><p> </p><p>…and found themselves in a large communal area, with several large couches in a ‘U’ facing a 50 inch flatscreen television, with a huge farmhouse table pushed to one side with long benches and mismatched chairs providing fourteen seats. A compact kitchen was clustered to the other end of the room with three huge fridge-freezers lined up along one side. Beyond were a series of doors that may be offices but were more likely bedrooms and (hopefully) at least one bathroom. And ranged in the room were nine other shapes who all looked up and rose when Thorin swept. The leader gave a slow nod of greeting as a massive bald-headed man dressed in leathers rose and grinned at Thorin.</p><p> </p><p>“I see ye got here safely then!” Thorin nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“All secure, Dwalin?”</p><p> </p><p>“This location hasn’t been compromised but Ori is cycling the CCTV surveillance for any signs of unusual activity,” Dwalin reported. “The vehicles are in the workshop. Bifur and Dori have patrol schedules.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m heading out for a reccy,” a man with sharp features and an unusual three-pointed star russet hairstyle.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll start lunch,” a very portly ginger-haired man said, his long braided beard swinging over his rounded stomach as he walked towards the fridges.</p><p> </p><p>“Get Mister Baggins settled in,” Thorin ordered. “Balin, Dwalin, Gloin-with me. We need to review the plan.” Bilbo blinked as they swept off in the direction of the bedrooms. The others scattered, most heading downstairs while a friendly-looking officer wearing a floppy hat with a rather ostentatious moustache grinned at him.</p><p> </p><p>“Bofur,” he introduced himself. “I know this must be hard for you-but let’s get you a cup of tea and then maybe we can have a chat?” He offered a shrug. “We may be here a while.” Bilbo wordlessly walked to the nearest couch-a sagging tan leather four-seater that dwarfed his slight frame. He collapsed awkwardly and clutched his plastic bag to his middle.</p><p> </p><p>“A cup of tea would be lovely,” he admitted, his face pained. “I-I really never asked for this. I mean…how long does this go on for? Is there a set time? Fili and Kili seemed to think that almost every time one of these happened it all ended…horribly…” Bofur walked to the kettle, spinning around the portly shape of Bombur and sloshing hot water over tea bags in two caffeine-stained mugs. He gave a sympathetic sigh as he vigorously mashed the bags.</p><p> </p><p>“Aye-though we all tend to filter out the lads,” he admitted. “Don’t get me wrong-their hearts are in the right place-mainly-but they’re young and eager and a bit mischievous and they want to impress their Uncle…”</p><p> </p><p>“Uncle?”</p><p> </p><p>“Thorin is their Uncle,” Bofur revealed, clumsily fishing out the bags and dumping them on the counter. “Milk?”</p><p> </p><p>“Just a drop, please,” Bilbo responded automatically, wincing as Bofur sloshed a huge dollop of full-fat milk in. But he smiled as Bofur walked over and handed him the overflowing mug, taking a way sip. Too mashed, too milky and a bit cool but he persevered because Yavanna, he needed it. “Thanks,” he forced himself to say. Then he sighed. “So what happens now?”</p><p> </p><p>“We keep you safe,” Bofur reassured him. “And we try to find out what Smaug plans next. And how we can bring him down.”</p><p> </p><p>“Who is he?” Bilbo asked quietly, sipping his tea. It was actually really horrible and he was determined to show these officers how to make proper tea but first he needed to drink this cup and settle his nerves a bit more. Bofur looked a little self-conscious.</p><p> </p><p>“Aye-well Thorin is probably the best one to…”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m asking you!” Bilbo snapped, his eyes glittering. “Look, through absolutely NO fault of my own, my life appears to have been snatched away from me and suddenly I’m effectively kidnapped with absolutely nothing except what I have in this bag, my cat is murdered and I don’t even know who I’m being threatened by!”</p><p> </p><p>Bofur looked up helplessly. Only Bombur and Ori were there and the clunk of a knife chopping was no comment. The youngest officer glanced up over his computer screen, his dark russet hair in an unfashionable cut, his knitted jumper sagging.</p><p> </p><p>“I’d tell him,” he said easily. “The basics, at least. I mean, why doesn’t he have the right to understand where he stands?” Bombur hummed from the kitchen as he dumped the copped veg into a huge stewing pan.</p><p> </p><p>“Agreed,” he added as Bofur sat back.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay,” he said and began.</p><p> </p><p>-o0o-</p><p> </p><p>As the time passed, Bilbo noted the other members of the Company drifting through. Bombur’s goulash for lunch had gone down a storm and Bilbo had been struck by the sheer ferocity with which the Company had descended on the food, dispatching the mealwith single-minded ferocity and almost no semblance of table manners. It really was a horrible affront to his Shire sensibilities-especially when they all rose the moment the scrape of spoons on bowls had finished and vanished without a word. Sighing, he had gathered up the plates and washed up out of sheer boredom, glancing at the shapes of Ori, Gloin and Oin who were heading for the small room that remained as an office to continue whatever leads they were following up while Bifur, Bofur and Bombur were assigned patrol. Dori and Dwalin were heading down to the workshop with Fili and Kili for training and Nori had already headed out to run through his contacts.</p><p> </p><p>Absently, Bilbo fished in his bag and hauled out his computer, plugging it in and logging onto the WiFi, the code for which was handily thumb-tacked to the wall. Sighing, he switched on and stared at his home screen. The image of his cousins Drogo and Prim and baby Frodo grinned back at him and he ran his fingers through his hair.</p><p> </p><p>“What have I gotten into?” he murmured. “I mean, I know you wanted me to be happy…but I sort of was? Nothing happening, no other close family…but I wasn’t being stalked or having my cat murdered. Or having some weirdo leave death flowers all over my home. Why couldn’t I just have run into the right person in a coffee shop…or at a Giant Vegetable Show…or even on the bus like normal people? But nooooo…I can talked into online dating because everyone else wants me to be happy and paired off so I can go to dinners and meals and not be the embarrassing and awkward ‘odd man out’…” He gave an exasperated snort. “I mean you never complained but every other relative looked at me like I was odd. Or crazy. Or just not a Baggins.” He huffed. “But you accepted me for being Bilbo. For being myself, not what everyone else expects. I never wanted to be on that bloody site!”</p><p> </p><p>And he slammed his head onto the table and groaned.</p><p> </p><p>“And I have no idea if I’ll ever be able to see you or talk to you again. I have no clue what is happening. This is just a total nightmare. I mean, I have no clothes, nothing to do. I’ll probably go crazy here. And this Smaug guy…why did he choose me out of everyone on the site? I mean, there were-are-so much buffer and more interesting guys on there and yet he chooses someone who works in a Library and has a Double Major in Ancient Sindarin and Ancient Quenya? That makes absolutely no sense! And he lied on his profile so he wasn’t genuine. I mean…Classical Mythology? Archaeology? Crochet?” He shook his head. “It just makes no sense.”</p><p> </p><p><em>“The laddie’s right,”</em> Balin murmured from the lobby at the top of the stairs from where they had heard his words. <em>“It doesn’t make sense. Smaug could just have lifted someone from the streets if he wanted a quick fuck…”</em> Thorin folded his arms and gave a curt nod.</p><p> </p><p><em>“He values life very little,” </em>he confirmed. <em>“But this involved a lot of effort on his part…when there are far easier means alleviating his needs.”</em></p><p> </p><p><em>“You want us to dig?”</em> Balin asked him.</p><p> </p><p><em>“Mine as if Erebor depended on it,”</em> he confirmed. <em>“And double the security. This smells very very off. There’s a plan going on here that we don’t see.”</em> Balin nodded thoughtfully.</p><p> </p><p><em>“Smaug never does anything without a reason, does he?”</em> he murmured. <em>“And he plans months ahead.”</em> Thorin’s eyes flicked up to meet his old friend’s and he nodded.</p><p> </p><p><em>“Yes, he does,” </em>he breathed. And then he turned and stalked down the stairs as Balin watched him thoughtfully.</p><p> </p><p><em>“Talk to me, Thorin,”</em> he muttered and then shrugged to return to the communal room.</p><p> </p><p>-o0o-</p><p> </p><p>Things got no better when the Company returned in the late afternoon from whatever assignments they had been undertaking. Bilbo found himself crowded and surrounded by a group of loud, boisterous and obviously tight-knit men who had a longstanding understanding and social order than he had no clue about. No one had gone to get him any spare clothes despite asking Balin about it-twice-and worse, the sleeping arrangements were definitely going to be communal, since there were only five designated sleeping rooms, all with bunk beds. Two bathrooms with showers were barely adequate for the number of individuals packed in and the television was rapidly monopolised by the Company, who found some Football and crammed themselves onto the couches, the sound up to max and yelling and cheering.</p><p> </p><p>Fed up, miserable and isolated, Bilbo grabbed his possessions and a glass of sparkling water and then made his way to the furthest bedroom from the communal area, plopping down on a single bed by the window and opening his computer. He didn’t care what his guardians thought about it because no one had asked what he wanted or offered any consideration for his feelings, despite his horrible day. So he kicked off his shoes, sat cross-legged on his adopted bed (like a rebellious teen, he thought ironically) and slipped in his earbuds. And then he clicked on a playlist of calming Elvish Melodies and opened the latest Ancient Sindarin Book he had downloaded from the University web.</p><p> </p><p>He got lost in the beautiful fables and the flowing ethereal narrative so he didn’t notice the light fading or the sounds of yells for dinner. In fact, he wasn’t aware of anything until a rough hand shook his shoulder, rudely snatching him from the First Age to meet the annoyed gaze of Thorin. He started, gave a yelp and jerked backwards.</p><p> </p><p>“Gah!”</p><p> </p><p>“Master Baggins-what are you doing in here?” Thorin growled. Bilbo snatched at his tattered composure and felt a curl of annoyance replace his embarrassment.</p><p> </p><p>“Obviously seeking some peace and quiet!” he snapped, causing Thorin to blink in surprise.</p><p> </p><p>“Who told you that you could use this room?” he demanded.</p><p> </p><p>“No one. But this was the quietest and the furthest from your racket!” Bilbo snarked back.</p><p> </p><p>“Which is why it is least suitable!” Thorin growled. “You are isolated and are close to an easy access point…” Bilbo pushed himself to his feet.</p><p> </p><p>“Guess what? I don’t care!” he snapped, glaring into Thorin’s eyes. “I’ve been effectively kidnapped by you from my home without so much as a by-your-leave. I have no clothes, no peace and quiet and no one has explained anything properly-Bofur tried but basically what he told me was ‘Thorin will explain later’. I’ve just been dumped here and then you all vanished off. I’m trapped here with thirteen loud, thoughtless people who are treating me as an inconvenience rather than someone who is scared stiff! I am trying not to freak out and literally this is the only time I have been able to feel partway human. So I am staying here with at least some view of the world and a chance for a few minutes of sanity.”</p><p> </p><p>Thorin glared at him, a look that could probably freeze molten steel. Then he turned abruptly away.</p><p> </p><p>“Food’s ready,” he ground out and stormed away.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not hungry!” Bilbo yelled and flopped down onto his bed, his good mood shattered.</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t go through for dinner, though Ori sneaked along twenty minutes later with a plate of roasted chicken, potato, vegetables and gravy. The young IT specialist gave a small smile as he handed over the cutlery.</p><p> </p><p>“You were missed,” he offered as he sat on the bunk opposite Bilbo’s bed. Bilbo shrugged as he tucked in.</p><p> </p><p>“I very much doubt it,” he said bitterly as he shovelled a mouthful of meat in. “I mean, nobody missed me until they looked up at dinnertime, did they?”</p><p> </p><p>There was an awkward pause.</p><p> </p><p>“No,” Ori murmured and stared at the floor. “Thorin was furious and chewed us all out. You could have been snatched and lost in that time.” Bilbo groaned and rolled his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh great. Now I get someone checking on me every ten minutes?” he guessed. Ori chuckled.</p><p> </p><p>“Not quite…but we have to keep eyes on you,” he warned Bilbo, seeing the other man groan. “And this room is right at the end, close to a potential weak point. It makes you vulnerable.”</p><p> </p><p>“Not moving,” Bilbo told him firmly. “Maybe if you hadn’t had football on loud enough to hear all the way back in the Shire, I would have stayed in the main room.” He speared another piece of chicken. “So no. Not moving. I’m staying here. You can tell Thorin. Sorry.” He finished the food and handed the plate back. Ori sighed.</p><p> </p><p>“I guessed you wouldn’t agree but I had to ask,” he sighed. He patted Bilbo on the shoulder. “It’s okay,” he reassured the Librarian. “It’s our problem to sort out. You stay here and…” His eyes widened. “You read Sindarin?” Bilbo nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“Double Major Classics Scholar,” he revealed. “That’s why I was Librarian at Erebor University. Almost no locals on the Elvish Classics Programme, though there are others who take the course. And no local competition for the post.” He shrugged. “Yeah, I’m a real star at dinner parties! Almost a laugh an hour and definitely not the best cure for insomnia known...” Ori chuckled.</p><p> </p><p>“At least you know what a Dinner Party is,” he told the man. “The rest of us…well, no one in their right mind would ever invite a single one of us.” He waited.</p><p> </p><p>“Not surprised,” Bilbo obliged him. “I mean, if you wanted to go round for a barbecue and football match, then you’d be good. But a Dinner Party?” He shook his head. The young officer gave a small smile as he rose.</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe while you’re here, you could give us a lesson?” he suggested. Bilbo stared at him and burst out laughing.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah-I cannot see Thorin or Dwalin falling over themselves to endorse that,” he commented. “Thanks, Ori.” The young man shrugged.</p><p> </p><p>“I know what it’s like to be the odd man out,” he confessed. “They’ll get to know you and you’ll find they’re not as bad as they seem…” Bilbo snorted and turned to look out of the window, waiting before he heard him go. Then he rested his forehead against the glass.</p><p> </p><p>“I just want this nightmare to end,” he murmured. "And I want to go home."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter Three</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>THREE:</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Things got more awkward as Balin ambled in half an hour later and attempted to talk to Bilbo. By now, he was hunched up against the headboard and reading a commentary on Ethuil’s version of ‘the Fall of Gondolin’ on his laptop and looked comfortably settled in. The oldest of the officers sighed and settled on the bunk next to Bilbo’s adopted bed.</p><p> </p><p>“I know you’re upset,” he began without preamble. “But all we want to do is our job-to the best of our ability.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hah!” Bilbo didn’t even look up. Balin rubbed his temples.</p><p> </p><p>“There are five sleeping rooms with two entry/exit points in this safehouse,” he explained. “This room is by the far stair and the one closest to the communal room is closest to the main stairway. Those points need our strongest defences. So usually we put Thorin, Dwalin and I at one end and Bifur, Bofur and Bombur at the other with whoever we protect in the middle.”</p><p> </p><p>“Pish,” Bilbo commented, gaining a perverse satisfaction at the childish jibe.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s good operational practice…” Balin protested.</p><p> </p><p>“Like not getting me any clothes, any peace, any explanations about what is like to happen? No means to reassure my family I’m okay or anything to do that will keep me sane with you bunch of ill-mannered loud hooligans?” Bilbo shot back. There was a stunned silence.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s what you think of us?” Balin asked him quietly.</p><p> </p><p>“What else have you shown me?” Bilbo asked him pointedly. “No introductions, no conversation, no explanation, you are intolerably loud, you colonised the main room and drove me away! Fili and Kili did nothing to reassure me when I was completely unbalanced and afraid and only Bofur and Ori have spoken to me like a real person. I didn’t ask for all this!” He threw his hands up in the air. “At least back home in the Shire, people would behave with reassurance and courtesy.”</p><p> </p><p>“And you know because…?” Balin asked coolly.</p><p> </p><p>“Because they did when my parents were killed!” Bilbo shouted at him. There was a stunned silence. “Because they were fantastic when they gave me the worst ever news. They were sympathetic, they treated me with respect, not like a problem. And they remembered I was the victim, not just a nuisance or an inconvenience that may interfere with them watching the second half!” He glared at Balin. “So I’m staying here. I like it here. I have a window, it’s quiet and I can be as far away as I can be from all of you.” Then he snapped his laptop closed. “Now if you don’t mind, I’m turning in.”</p><p> </p><p>-o0o-</p><p> </p><p>“He’s not budging,” Balin reported to the Company. Thorin scowled at him, then turned to glance at Dwalin.</p><p> </p><p>“You can always bodily drag him from the room…” the burly bald-headed officer began but Balin shook his head in exasperation at his brother.</p><p> </p><p>“Which is why I am the brains of the family,” he sighed, turning his piercing glare on their commander. “Thorin-you are a fine leader of the Company when you are hunting but when you’re standing still…you forget that he isn’t one of you.”</p><p> </p><p>“He should do as he is ordered,” Thorin growled.</p><p> </p><p>“Deal with it,” Balin told him bluntly. “He’s not one of your men. He’s not part of your story or your vendetta. He’s just a man in the wrong place at the wrong time. He said to remind you that he’s the victim, not an inconvenience.” There was a sober pause.</p><p> </p><p>“That is the case,” Gloin muttered, glancing over. Fili and Kili shared a look.</p><p> </p><p>“He’s right,” Kili murmured.</p><p> </p><p>“None of us noticed he had slipped away,’ Fili added with a guilty look. “Look, if it makes it easier, we could room with him and…”</p><p> </p><p>Thorin folded his arms across his chest, his face stern as he weighed the options. Then he gave a single, slight nod.</p><p> </p><p>“You will share the room-but I will sit in there for the night until we can discuss this further in the morning,” he decided. “Two guards at all times-one on surveillance and one on patrol in the safehouse. Four hour shifts. Bifur, Nori-you’ve got first shift.” The men nodded as Balin glared at him.</p><p> </p><p>“And Bilbo?” he hissed.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll try not to scare him to death tonight," Thorin promised gruffly, his eyes hard. “But I will do what is necessary to keep him alive, Balin. We all know how cruel and sadistic Smaug is. Whatever plan he has, I won’t allow another to be slaughtered and discarded in his schemes.” The older man patted his shoulder reassuringly.</p><p> </p><p>“I know,” Balin sighed. “But just remember Bilbo isn’t part of this world. And maybe…explaining why this is happening would work better than trying to order him.”</p><p> </p><p>“Because that’s gone so well so far,” Bofur murmured. Thorin ignored him.</p><p> </p><p>“Any news?” he asked as the rest of the Company gathered around the table for a debrief-except Bombur who was starting on patrol.</p><p> </p><p>“Surprisingly little,” Nori said, scratching his neck. “Usual rumours. Everyone knows Gundabad are on the warpath at the moment but no one is clear who has crossed them. Mirkwood and Moria are the most likely candidates…”</p><p> </p><p>“But neither make sense,” Gloin commented. “Moria and Gundabad are tight allies. Mirkwood never crosses into Firewyrm interests-they got burned years ago and diversified to other fields.”</p><p> </p><p>“There was the suggestion that Firewyrm have some sort of new project in progress,” Nori added. “No one’s heard much but there is anxiety among the lower level thieves.”</p><p> </p><p>“Firewyrm making any move usually means losses for anyone in competition,” Dori added.</p><p> </p><p>“Keep digging,” Thorin advised them. “We’re not seeing the picture.” He shook his head, scowling again. “What are you planning, Smaug? What treachery are you plotting?”</p><p> </p><p>-o0o-</p><p> </p><p>Bilbo woke as his phone buzzed and then gave a familiar jingle and he automatically flailed an arm, snagging it and hauling it to his ear.</p><p> </p><p>“Morning, Prim,” he murmured sleepily.</p><p> </p><p><em>“Where have you been?”</em> his cousin asked him, her voice concerned and not a little tart. Bilbo yawned.</p><p> </p><p>“Asleep?” he tried.</p><p> </p><p><em>“You sound dreadful!”</em> she scolded him. He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling.</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks. Makes me feel so much better,” he snarked.</p><p> </p><p><em>“Now there’s my cousin,”</em> Primula Brandybuck-Baggins said smugly. <em>“I’ve been trying to get hold of you since yesterday morning.”</em> Bilbo blinked and sat up abruptly. His phone had been off in the police station and after he had switched it back on, he had no reception in the main part of the safehouse-only here, by the window. There were no missed calls.</p><p> </p><p>“You have?” he asked, frowning and then gave a yelp and scurried back until he was sitting with his back pressed hard against the headboard and knees drawn up to his chest. Thorin was sitting on a wooden chair by the door of the room, his arms folded across his chest and scowling magnificently at him. He looked tired and dishevelled though and Bilbo would have asked him a very pointed question about what precisely he was doing there if his cousin hadn’t continued.</p><p> </p><p><em>“Yes. There’s been a delivery at Bag End for you,”</em> she reported. <em>“Some Recorded Delivery parcel. You didn’t mention you have anything coming…”</em></p><p> </p><p>“Because I didn’t…” Bilbo frowned and then cleared his throat. “Delivery? What?”</p><p> </p><p><em>“A box,”</em> Primula reported as Bilbo held the phone away from his ear so Thorin could hear as well. <em>“Blank, Black. Addressed to ‘Mr B Baggins’. No sender or return address.” </em>His stomach fluttering with fear that he hated but which was becoming increasingly familiar when things happened that made no sense, Bilbo looked up again and met Thorin’s eyes. The Ereborean officer shook his head, a frown furrowing his brow.</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t order anything, Prim,” he murmured. “I didn’t expect anything.” Thorin rose slowly and walked closer, crouching by the bed as Bilbo switched the call to loudspeaker.</p><p> </p><p><em>“It’s taken all my powers of persuasion to stop Drogo or Frodo opening it,”</em> Prim reported, sighing. Thorin urgently shook his head.</p><p> </p><p>“Keep them away from it,” Bilbo told her urgently.</p><p> </p><p><em>“Why?”</em> his cousin asked immediately.</p><p> </p><p>“Because…” And then he paused.</p><p> </p><p>“Mrs Baggins,” Thorin said clearly, his voice as calm as he could manage. “My name is Thorin. I am a friend of Bilbo…”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“Bilbo! You should have said! I wouldn’t have woken you so early if I had known…”</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Bilbo flushed scarlet to the tips of his ears.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“I mean, I knew there had to be a reason why you moved to Erebor but…”</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry,” Bilbo mouthed, literally dying of embarrassment.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“And when do we get to meet…?”</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Mrs Baggins-how many of you are in your household at present?” Thorin interrupted, his tone serious. There was a pause.</p><p> </p><p><em>“Why do you ask?</em>” Prim asked, her tone suspicious. <em>“I would have thought Bilbo would have told…”</em></p><p> </p><p>“Prim-please?” Bilbo replied, his tone agonised.</p><p> </p><p><em>“My husband Drogo and my five year old son, Frodo,</em>” she replied.</p><p> </p><p>“Mrs Baggins-you need to immediately pack essentials-overnight clothes, vital documents, money-and get out,” Thorin told her grimly. “Do not delay for even a minute. Do not hesitate. And stay away from the package.”</p><p> </p><p><em>“Is this a joke?”</em> Prim asked in the firm tone Bilbo had heard her use on Frodo (and Drogo) when neither was doing what she wanted them to.</p><p> </p><p>“No joke,” Thorin told her, his tone still calm. “Please-take your family and get out of that house <em>now</em>. Go and stay with relatives…”</p><p> </p><p><em>“We’ll pop in and annoy Uncle Gorbadoc,</em>” Prim decided, her voice now firmer. There were the sounds of rustling. <em>“Bilbo-we are discussing this-and you and Thorin need to come over for tea some time. I think he needs to pass Baggins family scrutiny…</em>” Plastering a pained smile on his face, Bilbo nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“Take care, Prim. Love to Drogo and give my nephew a hug from me,” he said.</p><p> </p><p><em>“Bilbo…whatever is going on…you will tell me, won’t you?”</em> Prim asked quietly.</p><p> </p><p>“I promise,” he sighed. “Now stay safe. Love you.”</p><p> </p><p><em>“Love you too,”</em> she said and ended the call.</p><p> </p><p>Bilbo closed his eyes and pressed his hand across his face.</p><p> </p><p>“I am so sorry…” he began, unable to meet Thorin’s eyes. “I don’t know what came into her. Well, I do know because my entire family want to attend another wedding or engagement or…well, any party and they’ve all been worried about me since my parents died even though that was years ago and…” He took a deep breath. “I’ll stop talking now,” he said in a defeated voice. Wincing, he opened his eyes and saw Thorin had risen to walk to the window.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not a problem,” he said thoughtfully. “Do you use your old address for anything now?”</p><p> </p><p>“No,” Bilbo murmured, resting his phone on the bed. “I transferred everything over to my Erebor address. I’m even registered to vote here…”</p><p> </p><p>“So you would not have any deliveries diverted there?” Thorin checked. Chewing his lip, Bilbo shook his head.</p><p> </p><p>“No,” he breathed and then he looked up. “You think…?” Thorin nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“It doesn’t take too much effort to locate family,” he explained heavily. “And the Shire is known to be open and family-orientated.”</p><p> </p><p>“And you think the package was sent by Smaug?” Bilbo asked, his tone shaken. Thorin nodded and fished his phone from his pocket.</p><p> </p><p>“Excuse me, I need to call my counterpart in the Shire,” he said and then paused. “Your cousins’ address?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh. Bag End, the Hill, Hobbiton,” Bilbo reported and Thorin nodded, then swept from the room. Giving a pained groan, Bilbo rested his head back against the wall. “Yavanna…that was the most…”</p><p> </p><p>“Mr Boggins…” He flinched as Kili’s head poked over the top of the upper bunk. His brother was already grinning from the lower.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s <em>Baggins</em>,” Bilbo growled.</p><p> </p><p>“Did your friend just assume you and Thorin were an item?” Fili asked him pointedly. Bilbo glared at him.</p><p> </p><p>“My cousin. And it was a misunderstanding since it’s only six o’clock in the morning and most normal people don’t have a strange man in their bedroom at that time unless there’s something going on…” he began as Kili’s grin widened.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, the Company are definitely going to have to hear about this!” he promised.</p><p> </p><p>“No. NO!” Bilbo yelped.</p><p> </p><p>“Why not?” Fili asked. “Isn’t our Uncle good enough…?” Groaning, Bilbo collapsed onto his face.</p><p> </p><p>“Your Uncle…you mean Thorin is actually really your Uncle? I really thought they were joking. Just perfect!” he spat, his voice muffled by the duvet. “Nope. Not saying that. He already hates me so spreading some really embarrassing assumption my cousin made will just make that worse…”</p><p> </p><p>“I know Dwalin and Bifur will rupture something laughing at that one,” Fili added conversationally.</p><p> </p><p>“Dori would probably congratulate him,” Kili put in.</p><p> </p><p>“No.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ori too,” Fili mused. “I mean, they all worry about him…”</p><p> </p><p>“Isn’t it against the rules to kill the person you’re supposed to be protecting with terminal embarrassment?” Bilbo asked them as they collapsed laughing.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t recall anything about that in the regulations!” Kili chuckled as Bilbo scrambled up, grabbed his phone and glared at them.</p><p> </p><p>“I need a cup of tea,” he announced and stalked out of the room. The brothers shared a look.</p><p> </p><p>“Last one to tell Dwalin’s an elf!” Fili said and they leapt from the bunks and raced after him.</p><p> </p><p>-o0o-</p><p> </p><p>There were times when Thorin felt like a fish out of water-not many, because he was usually surrounded by people who knew him well and who accepted his grumpy and reserved exterior as who he was. A couple of them could recall who he had been before-not terribly different, he was the first to admit, but less burdened by experiences that no one should have to own. Frerin and Dis had always been the extroverts, the favoured children while he…was the recipient of all the expectations of a score of generations of his family and of the increasingly restrictive demands of his father and grandsire. So he had allowed himself to become the taciturn individual who had diverted their attentions and allowed his younger siblings the freedom they deserved, retreating until it became a habit, a thick cloak he used to shield himself against worrying or caring or sometimes even feeling.</p><p> </p><p>But he had been taken by surprise when Bilbo had received his phone call and he had realised that Smaug was already miles ahead of the Company. Instantly following the realisation had come the guilt, the savage silent self-castigation and the urgent need to protect the other man’s family who were as wholly innocent in this horrific mess as Bilbo was. Had Bilbo mentioned them on his date? Unlikely, since he had explained that he had immediately felt the wrongness of the man facing him and had done everything to discourage him…so it was very likely that Smaug had sought them out on his own.</p><p> </p><p>He glanced across to the kitchen. The Librarian had dealt with his anxiety at the situation by taking over the kitchen and was currently making a fourteen person fried breakfast with all the facility of a professional chef. Of course, the Shirelings were renowned for their immense legendary hospitality and almost mythically good cookery but Thorin hadn’t ever witnessed it…until now. The previous day, in the station, Baggins had seemed completely out of his depth, lost and bewildered and the knowledge his relatives were under threat had thrown him…but the moment he arrived in the kitchen, his face had cleared. He had brewed a pot of tea, drunk two mugs straight down and then he had set to work. The entire place was full of pans, bacon sizzling, sausages browning and tomatoes cooking under the grill, eggs popping in hot fat and mushrooms sautéing. The entire warehouse was now smelling like breakfast-and that was enough to drag the Company from their beds in various states of consciousness.</p><p> </p><p>He turned away and walked to the top of the back stairs, sliding out and resting his back against the metal cladding over the building. He had already called the Shire Law Enforcement Division and his opposite number had been intensely polite and just as politely scathing at failing to warn them of potential dangers to their citizens. As a Ereborean, Thorin hadn’t really thought about the interconnectedness of Shire families but the Shire Officer had been icily polite-especially when Thorin had mentioned the word’ Baggins’. It seemed that Bilbo was distantly related to the hereditary Civil Leader-the Thain-as well as all of the most connected and rich families in the Shire. It just made a difficult situation a thousand times worse.</p><p> </p><p>He closed his eyes. The conversation hadn’t been friendly but he had offered one piece of advice that could help-though he was unsure if his opposite number would even go for it. Then he sighed and rested his head back against the metal.</p><p> </p><p>His vision shifted, changing from an empty car park and delivery yard behind their haven and the spiked fence surrounding an electricity substation to the flames, the explosions shaking the very fabric of the oh-so-familiar house. His younger self could hear yells, feel the heat and had dragged his siblings away, thrusting them into the escape route his father had taught them as soon as they could understand. But he had stayed after slamming the door closed behind them, had thrown himself into the battle-for all the use it had been. The numbers had been overwhelming, the opponents high on Orcblood, the lethal narcotic the Gundabads peddled all over Arda, and though the defenders had regrouped, Thorin could still see the slice of the knife, the scarlet spray of blood and the fall of a heavy body as his own howl of rage and grief filled the air. He could feel his body lifted, hands seeming to dig into his very bones as he was hauled before the Defiler, his head dragged up and the knife raised… And then the pain followed, the eventual explosion and fire casting him aside like so much trash and leaving him for dead amid the ruins of the family home, not knowing if anyone else had survived…</p><p> </p><p>“Thorin!”</p><p> </p><p>He blinked and jerked away from Dwalin’s hand, his head snapping round as current reality reasserted itself.</p><p> </p><p>“Problem?” he asked gruffly, shoving the memories back fiercely.</p><p> </p><p>“Breakfast,” his friend corrected him. “You better get in before Bombur and…well, everyone else…gets there first.” Thorin raised an eyebrow. “He may be a whinger but Mahal, he can cook.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not…”</p><p> </p><p>“You look like shit,” Dwalin told him bluntly. “And you need to eat. At least act like you’re human.” Thorin took a deep breath.</p><p> </p><p>“I forgot how much he loves collateral damage,” he murmured. “I forgot he would seek any friends and relatives…”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s under control now,” Dwalin told him as they turned back into the house, carefully making sure the door was locked behind them.</p><p> </p><p>“Is it?” Thorin asked as they walked towards the main communal area. Bombur had prepared him a plate and he took the seat at the far end of the table as Bilbo finally sat down, deftly bisecting his egg and dipping a slice of black pudding into the runny yolk.</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks, Bilbo!” Bofur called, raising his mug of tea cheerfully and the thanks were echoed by all the Company. There were grins and nods and for a moment, the Librarian looked up, his eyes shining and he seemed genuinely touched by the words of the Company.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re welcome,” he said and ducked his head, turning back to his food. Oin grabbed the remote and clicked the television on, displaying the morning news programme. Absently, Thorin lifted a piece of toast and was about to take a bite when the anchor came on.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>And in breaking news, we cross over to our correspondent in the Shire, where emergency services are dealing with the aftermath of an explosion,”</em> he said, shifting the image to a correspondent, standing in the rain with flashing blue and red lights visible behind him and a column of black smoke billowing into the weeping sky.</p><p> </p><p>There was a clatter as Bilbo’s knife hit his plate.</p><p> </p><p>“No…” he mouthed.</p><p> </p><p><em>“…explosion has ripped apart a Hobbiton Property in the Hill neighbourhood. There is no news of the family within but initial reports are that there are no survivors.</em>”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter Four</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>FOUR:</b>
</p><p> </p><p>The Company stared sat Bilbo, seeking his bloodless face and the dark horror in his hazel eyes. He was hyperventilating and seemed frozen, eyes locked on the screen.</p><p> </p><p>“Switch it off,” Balin said and Oin fumbled to comply but the damage was done. Fili and Kili shared a look and made their way to each side of the Librarian, wrapping their arms around him in a furious hug. Bilbo was shaking, his eyes screwed closed and he was rocking, though he allowed them to wrap him in their embraces. Thorin rose, his appetite gone, and gestured to Balin and Dwalin. There was nothing he could do here and he headed to the small office that housed the computer cycling the surveillance cameras as the rest attempted to comfort the shocked young man.</p><p> </p><p>“You couldn’t have known,” Dwalin growled as they slammed the door.</p><p> </p><p>“I should have,” Thorin told him sharply. “I…”</p><p> </p><p>“Operational priorities are to get the subject away to a safe location and investigate,” Balin reminded him sternly. “You-and we-were handed this case less than twenty four hours ago. The department have been handling it for days. If there was an omission in communicating with others back in the Shire, it was on their part, not yours. Bilbo was there as you spoke to his family and told them to get out. You rang the Shire PD immediately. In person. You have nothing to feel guilty for.”</p><p> </p><p>Thorin gave a small, bitter smile.</p><p> </p><p>“We both know that isn’t true, Balin,” he said with self-loathing. “I should have realised Smaug would go for anyone connected to Bilbo, even a distant cousin…” He shook his head. “He’s ahead of us on every front. How? And why?” He leaned forward and rested his fists on the desk. “Why is he so determined to torture this man?”</p><p> </p><p>“Apart from the fact he likes pulling to legs of flies?” Dwalin suggested gruffly. Thorin frowned.</p><p> </p><p>“This involves a lot of effort to scare…a nobody,” he mused. “So why Bilbo?” He glanced at Balin. “Get Ori to rip that dating website apart. I want to know everything about it, about Bilbo and Smaug’s interactions. Who joined when? From where?”</p><p> </p><p>“Are you suggesting the laddie wasn’t honest with you?” Balin asked. Thorin shook his head.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not sure he told us everything…because he was distressed,” he said. “He may have overheard something, seen something…that Smaug thinks is dangerous.” Then he looked up. “Get Bofur to talk to him. And Dori. They seem better at the…”</p><p> </p><p>“Humanity?” Balin asked him.</p><p> </p><p>“Empathy,” Thorin winced. “Never been my strong suit.” The older man sighed.</p><p> </p><p>“We’ll care for the laddie,” he told Thorin calmly. “But we have to assume this location may not remain secure.”</p><p> </p><p>“Have a constant watch on Bilbo,” Thorin ordered. “People who Bilbo gets on with. Fili, Kili, Ori, Bofur…they can help him until we can work out what is happening and relocate…” He nodded. “I need to speak to Bard…” He walked to the door and sighed. “Dwalin-check the perimeter. We’re on our own here…” The big man nodded as Thorin walked out into the corridor…to see Bilbo advancing on him.</p><p> </p><p>“You!” Bilbo yelled. Turning to face him, Thorin was taken by surprise when the librarian punched him in the face. “It’s your fault! They should have been safe! Instead…” Rocked back slightly by the blow-which hadn’t been that impressive, just surprising-Thorin stared as Bilbo glared at him and seemed on the verge of saying something more before he turned and stormed past. Thorin grimaced as Dwalin chuckled unkindly.</p><p> </p><p>“You need to learn to duck,’ he commented as Thorin glared at him.</p><p> </p><p>“No,” he said quietly. He had seen the anger, hurt and desolation in Bilbo’s eyes, the grief at the loss of his cousins and it was a tsunami of emotions he could understand far too well. “No, he’s just upset. No harm was done. He’ll cool down…”</p><p> </p><p>There was the bang of a door and everyone spun to glare down the hallway.</p><p> </p><p>“Durin’s Beard-he’s gone outside!” Dwalin growled as Thorin spat a mouthful of curses.</p><p> </p><p>“I take it all back,” he growled. “He’s gone insane! We have to get him back!” Fili and Kili sprinted up.</p><p> </p><p>“Did you see Bilbo?” Fili asked urgently as the other three ran towards the fire exit. Kili ran after them. He glanced over his shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>“I think he’s escaped,” he called as he vanished. His brother sighed and ran after him.</p><p> </p><p>-o0o-</p><p> </p><p>Bilbo had been utterly shattered.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Prim was dead.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Drogo was dead.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Frodo was dead.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>The only people he actually cared for in the world had been stolen from him in one fell moment.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>And it was all his fault. If he hadn’t answered that match. If he hadn’t messaged Smaug. If he hadn’t gone on that damned date. If he had agreed to a second date. If he…</p><p> </p><p>And then he had found himself wrapped in a double hug by Fili and Kili. It was something completely and utterly unexpected. Sure, they were young and brash and mischievous and frankly horribly unprofessional but they also seemed to have more compassion and heart than most of the others put together. Maybe it was because they were young and inexperienced that they hadn’t yet had their hearts crushed out of them, that they still recalled what it was like to be human.</p><p> </p><p>Ereboreans were tactile-that much was obvious from his observations of the locals after he had moved to the city. In the Shire, there was a more formal, more genteel way of interacting-no less passionate or friendly in the privacy of one’s home with close family but in public, appearance was everything. A firm handshake was about the limit or maybe a chaste kiss on the cheek of an elderly aunt but nothing more. Even the kisses shared at a wedding were chaste and brief. Yet for all their insular nature and strange customs, the Ereboreans were warm and touchy. Claps on the shoulder, a punch to the arm, one-armed hugs, head butts for greetings (how did that work without repeated concussion? Bilbo was still unsure)…every interaction seemed to be touchy. It seemed to be their nature and it was a wrench…but perhaps not that unwelcome. Secretly, Bilbo would rather have a little more human contact than less, as long as no one crossed any boundaries…</p><p> </p><p>And Fili and Kili were warm. Their heat leached into his shaking body, chasing away the cold horror that had run through him and helping the initial shock to ease. He was still heartbroken and angry and shocked but he could think again. The hugs were tight but not too tight and he could feel their breaths against his skin. Fili shifted slightly.</p><p> </p><p>“We’re so sorry,” he murmured quietly, so softly no one but Bilbo and Kili could hear. “Your family?”</p><p> </p><p>Bilbo managed a slight nod, feeling the tears slide down his cheeks.</p><p> </p><p>“We know,” Kili added, his voice disturbingly serious. “We lost our parents…too soon…” His voice hitched slightly and he tightened his grip on Bilbo. “We’re sorry,” he added.</p><p> </p><p>“So am I,” Bilbo managed, his throat thick but the tightness eased a fraction by the words. He rested his head against Kili’s. “Thanks.” The younger brother shifted slightly.</p><p> </p><p>“We’re here for you, Bilbo,” he murmured.</p><p> </p><p>“We know we mess around,” Fili added. “But we won’t let anything happen to you. We promise.”</p><p> </p><p>Not wanting to call them out on the obvious impossibility of their promise, Bilbo felt a slight smile tilt his lips a few degrees. There was a surety in their words that gave him hope and he wanted to believe them. He really did. But there was only one person who held ultimate responsibility. He nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks,” he breathed as a cup was placed on the table in front of him. Bofur gave a tentative smile.</p><p> </p><p>“Just as you like it,” he said cheerfully. Bilbo was absolutely certain it wasn’t, as it seemed to consist mostly of milk but he reached for it anyway as Fili and Kili released him and he took a sip of the horrible tea.</p><p> </p><p>“Lovely,” he managed politely. Then he took a shuddering breath. “So what happens?” He looked around.</p><p> </p><p>“We have to decide if this was a security breach or something else,” Oin explained.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll check our perimeter,” Ori offered and snapped open his laptop to log into the cameras from his laptop. Dori and Bifur headed downstairs to check the building as Nori glanced at the Librarian.</p><p> </p><p>“Can we do anything?” he asked thoughtfully. Bilbo sighed.</p><p> </p><p>“Warn my other relatives,” he murmured. “Something that maybe should have been done earlier.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s usually Thorin and Balin’s responsibility…” Nori commented as Bilbo suddenly felt a jolt of anger run through him.</p><p> </p><p>The team knew who should have warned his cousins, should have made sure they were safe while they spirited Bilbo away to this Yavanna-forsaken location. They knew what should have been done. And maybe, if they had been warned before, they would still be alive…</p><p> </p><p>He rose.</p><p> </p><p>“Could I have a few moments?” he asked, anger boiling in his chest. “I just need to clear my head.”</p><p> </p><p>“Take as long as you need,” Dori offered, his eyes sympathetic. But Bilbo’s ears could catch the sounds of voices from the person he really needed to speak to, the person who dropped the ball and let his cousins get killed. Turning, Bilbo took off, hearing the creak of a door opening and seeing the object of his ire emerge into the dim hallway. Suddenly, he understood the meaning of the phrase ‘seeing red’ as he accelerated.</p><p> </p><p>“YOU!” he yelled, drawing back his fist and launching himself to punch Thorin in the face. His head snapped back and he almost stumbled as Bilbo glared, vibrating with fury. “It’s your fault! They should have been safe! Instead…” His throat tightened but he hoped he got his point across as he huffed a fierce breath. Thorin’s eyes inspected him, something almost like sympathy flickering in the brilliant blue depths…and Bilbo felt rage wash over him once more. So he stormed away, knowing what he needed. He needed space, he needed solitude to just process and think through what had happened.</p><p> </p><p>He found himself at the back door, a fire exit and without even thinking, he pulled it open and gently pulled it to, racing down the metal stairs of the fire escape before the automatic closing mechanism finally shut the door. But by now, he was across the empty car park and behind the electric substation, hidden from the cameras. In the Shire, all kids learned to move silently and secretly as a matter of course and he wove his way through shaggy bushes, clumps of weeds and random stands of buddleia and birch. Taking care not to bruise the weeds or leave a trail, he sneaked through and finally found a large gorse bush that he could scramble under, shielded by the prickles and dense leaves and finally, he sat on the dry ground in the space under the main body of the bush and wrapped his arms around his knees.</p><p> </p><p>He buried his face in his knees and quietly sobbed. Primula and Drogo were his favourite cousins, the only people who spared him any consideration after he became asocial and withdrawn after the deaths of his parents. They understood his qualms, his desire not to be pressurised into courting 'some nice girl’, not to become the meat for family gossips and his wishes to follow his heart. He loved ancient languages, ancient legends and travel…all of which made him an outcast in the insular and highly conservative Shire. But Prim and Drogo never judged him, always inviting him round with no pressure, making him Frodo’s guardian and godfather and checking up on him as if he was a brother, not a cousin. Losing them was almost as bad as losing his parents.</p><p> </p><p>And his hand hurt from where he had punched Thorin.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>He had punched the officer in charge of his safety.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>A perverse satisfaction welled in his throat, quickly replaced by shame. Of course, Thorin had messed up…but there were other officers who were on the case…Bard, for one…who had explained to Bilbo, after he had found Myrtle, that he would need expert protection and that the whole department would do everything necessary to protect him. And while Thorin and his excessively loud and badly-mannered team were looking after Bilbo, surely Bard and his team could have given the heads-up to the Shire and Bilbo’s relatives?</p><p> </p><p>He stifled a groan. He owed Thorin an apology.</p><p> </p><p>The slam of a car door astonishingly close to him had him freezing and he wondered with cold realisation, if he had made a huge mistake. He could hear heavy steps crunch on the gravel a few yards behind him and he scarcely dared to breathe as a second set of steps matched the first.</p><p> </p><p>“Our friend was right.”</p><p> </p><p>The voice was cold, fierce and cruel and Bilbo felt his blood turn to ice.</p><p> </p><p>“Out of the way, good lines of approach…but a long way from help. And only the Company here to protect him.”</p><p> </p><p>The second voice was no better-it had a harsh, rasping quality but sounded just as cruel.</p><p> </p><p>“He won’t see it coming. They believe this location is secure. Just as he didn’t see what happened to his family.”</p><p> </p><p>Both men laughed, a sound that sent more chills down Bilbo’s spine.</p><p> </p><p>“Bolg and his enforcers will be here within the hour and then we can finally take him down and haul him before the Master.” There were chuckles that inspired no confidence.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay-let’s go to rendez-vous three and wait for the reinforcements,” the first voice said and the steps moved away. There were the sounds of two car doors slamming and a car driving away. Bilbo scooched down and peered under the bush but there were no signs of anyone else there. So he scrambled out and sprinted back towards the substation, hearing the assortment of cries of ‘BILBO’ growing closer. He burst through the line of brush and dodged behind the substation…before he slammed straight into what felt like a brick wall.</p><p> </p><p>Which turned out to be Dwalin. Looking up wildly, Bilbo gave shuddering sigh.</p><p> </p><p>“We have a problem!” he gasped. Dwalin grasped his arms tightly, his face twisted in an angry scowl, his eyes snapping with anger.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes-you really shouldn’t run away because…” he began in a growl but Bilbo shook his head.</p><p> </p><p>“No-they’ve found us,’ he gasped. Dwalin frowned. “Smaug’s men! I heard them! They’ll be here in an hour!”</p><p> </p><p>“What?”</p><p> </p><p>“We have to get out of here!” Bilbo told him urgently. Dwalin frowned more and then nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“We need to get you back inside and tell Thorin,” he decided as they headed back towards the warehouse, with Dwalin not letting go of the Librarian’s arm. The Company had scattered through the grassy area behind the warehouse and Bilbo could still hear calls for him, even though he was found. Dwalin paused, then gave a loud and piercing whistle, then three more. The shouts stopped and there were the sounds of bodies moving through the bushes.</p><p> </p><p>“Not exactly stealthy,” Bilbo couldn’t help commenting. Dwalin snorted.</p><p> </p><p>“And you are?” he challenged the Librarian. Bilbo nodded as they headed swiftly for the stairs back up to the door.</p><p> </p><p>“You didn’t find me-I found you,” he pointed out. “Look, I was raised in the Shire. Kids-we’re called faunts there-spend most of their time outdoors and we learn to vanish so not even our parents can find us from three feet away. If I hadn’t wanted to be found, I wouldn’t be.” Dwalin paused and then nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“So why did you punch Thorin?” he asked in a mildly amused voice. Bilbo cleared his throat as he sped up the stairs.</p><p> </p><p>“Because I blamed him for the deaths of my cousins,” he admitted quietly. “I thought he should have stopped it.”</p><p> </p><p>“He’d agree with you,” Dwalin pointed out gruffly. “But he’s not Mahal. He won’t give up trying to protect you, Master Baggins. Just try not to make it harder for him.” Pausing at the door, Bilbo sighed.</p><p> </p><p>“I needed space. I need quiet. I needed to feel like I was home once more and remember my cousins,” he said slowly. “Sorry.” But Dwalin clapped him on the shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>“If you need time, tell us and we can try to give you space safely,’ he said with unexpected understanding. He shrugged his leather clad shoulders. “We may look like…a random selection ofguys but every man here will do what needs to be done to complete the mission. No matter the cost.” Bilbo paused.</p><p> </p><p>“Sounds serious,” he commented.</p><p> </p><p>“We’ve buried friends and colleagues,” Dwalin said evenly. “Never lost a witness though.” Bilbo stopped dead and the sense of foreboding crashed over him once more.</p><p> </p><p>“What is going on?” he demanded. “Just who is Smaug?”</p><p> </p><p>“Pretty much the worst person you could have angered, laddie,” Balin said, approaching quietly from the office. “He’s the Boss of the Firewyrm Crime Syndicate, the worst of the worst. A man who kills, maims and destroys for fun.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh why couldn’t he have put that on his dating profile?” Bilbo groaned. Then he shook himself. “They’ve found us.” Balin frowned.</p><p> </p><p>“How…?’</p><p> </p><p>“I heard them…there’s a small road right at the back of the brush. They know we’re here!” Balin nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“Go to the communal room. Collect your things on the way,” he said sternly. “We’ll be through in a moment.” Bilbo nodded as the two brothers faced one another.</p><p> </p><p>“Thorin was right,” Dwalin murmured.</p><p> </p><p>“I wish to the Maker he wasn’t…but it makes sense,” Balin sighed. “Though it makes our job a hundred times harder…”</p><p> </p><p>Bilbo snatched the chance to brush his teeth and wash his face on the way to the communal area with his sad plastic bag of belongings. Despite the lack of clean clothes, he was feeling more human and slid into a seat cheerfully as the Company assembled. Thorin was the last to walk in, his face locked in a scowl. Bilbo cringed at the small bruise on his cheek that was definitely his fault but Thorin sat opposite him, his eyes locked on Bilbo’s face.</p><p> </p><p>“Dwalin said there was a problem,” he said without preamble and listened as Bilbo explained what he had heard. There was a silence after he finished speaking and everyone shared worried glances.</p><p> </p><p>“Bolg,” Bifur growled, his fingers tracing the jagged scar over the left side of his head.</p><p> </p><p>“Within the hour,” Nori murmured. “How did they find us?”</p><p> </p><p>“We were betrayed,” Thorin rumbled. “<em>Our friend was right.</em> That was what he said?” Bilbo nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“Where Bilbo vanished to was a blind spot,” Ori added. Balin frowned.</p><p> </p><p>“How did we not know about this?” he asked thoughtfully. The youngest officer blushed.</p><p> </p><p>“The safe house was checked last month and all equipment and security arrangements were confirmed and upgraded,” he reported. “I should have double checked but in the middle of a mission we couldn’t have everyone out so I could ensure every inch of the perimeter was covered as the department said it was and…” Balin patted his shoulder comfortingly.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re right, laddie,” he reassured him. “The error wasn’t yours.” Thorin’s scowl deepened.</p><p> </p><p>“No-but someone has made a serious mistake,’ he murmured. “Do we have any clue how long they have had us under surveillance?” Ori shrugged.</p><p> </p><p>“We can’t see the area at all,” he explained. “If Bilbo hadn’t gone for his…walk, we still wouldn’t know. But I guess they could have-and have been-watching for some time…”</p><p> </p><p>“So the location is completely compromised,” Dwalin growled.</p><p> </p><p>“And someone tipped them off,” Dori added. Bofur frowned.</p><p> </p><p>“Is anyone else thinking that something doesn’t smell right?” he asked rhetorically. There were nods all round.</p><p> </p><p>“Grab your belongings and get to the cars now!” Thorin ordered, rising to his feet. “Balin, Dwalin-suggestions?”</p><p> </p><p>“Off grid,” Balin said promptly as the others rose and scattered to grab their equipment.</p><p> </p><p>“Nothing the department knows about,” Dwalin added. Thorin gave a reluctant nod of agreement.</p><p> </p><p>“We have to vanish completely,” he decided. “I know where we can go. Grab your weapons.”</p><p> </p><p>Bombur and Dori hastily threw food into large bags as Bilbo rose, his pulse galloping. This seemed like a hideous nightmare that just kept getting worse and worse…and the only thing that seemed to make sense was the very Shire-like way the two officers were securing provisions. Weirdly, it was something every one of his relations would have recognised and it stabbed another pang of pain through his chest at the knowledge he would never see Prim and Drogo again. He crushed it down fiercely.</p><p> </p><p>“Can I help?” he asked but they shook their heads.</p><p> </p><p>“Be ready to move,” Bombur told him and then he flashed a reassuring smile. “And don’t worry-no one will starve.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, that’s a relief,” Bilbo commented. “We may be shot or blown up but at least we won’t starve…” Bombur’s grin widened and he winked before he turned back to ramming more food into the bag.</p><p> </p><p>“Time to go,” Thorin announced as the others reappeared. He was carrying a black duffle bag and Dwalin, walking behind him, seemed to have a shotgun slung over each shoulder. Immediately, the Company was on alert, game faces on as they faced their leader. “Bilbo-you’re with me…Come…” Nodding, he followed Thorin as the Company sped down the stairs and towards the cars. There was a beep and suddenly Ori was yelling:</p><p> </p><p>“THORIN!” …just as three black SUVs with darkly tinted windows swung round the corner and bullets began to zing around them…</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter Five</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>FIVE:</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Bilbo froze like a rabbit in the headlights and stared with shock as bullets flew around him-before he was tackled to the ground. He hit the floor with a groan and winced, the breath knocked out of him as bullets continued to hail about him. He flinched as one ricocheted off the tarmac a few feet to his right. Thorin scrambled off him and threw himself back before he hauled Bilbo behind the car, his pistol in his hand.</p><p> </p><p>“Keep down,” he growled as the Company began to fire back at the approaching SUVs. Cringing, Bilbo pressed his hands to his ears as he watched Dwalin fire his shotguns one-handed as if they were toys and Balin shoot with a fierce intensity. Fili and Kili were hunkered down, blasting away and Bombur seemed to be handling a machine gun as if it was a toothpick. But behind them Nori, Bofur and Oin vanished through the door into the main body of the unit that the warehouse masqueraded as where the other vehicles were parked.</p><p> </p><p>“Only three cars,” Balin called as Thorin fired fiercely at the nearest SUV as it sped past, smashing the passenger window.</p><p> </p><p>“More than enough with us pinned down,” he growled. “Only one way out of this location.”</p><p> </p><p>The attackers spun round and aimed straight at them, bullets still flattening against the car.</p><p> </p><p>“Fili, Kili-get him back!” Thorin ordered as he fired again, smashing the windshield of the leading car. It spun and impacted the second one. “Dwalin, Balin-get the others away.”</p><p> </p><p>“But you…” Dwalin protested. Thorin scowled and jerked his head as Bilbo found himself lifted and bundled into the back seat of the car by Kili as Fili slid into the driver’s seat. </p><p> </p><p>“This isn’t getting back!” he protested as Fili turned the key and jammed the stick into gear.</p><p> </p><p>“No-it’s getting away-and diverting the attackers to let the others get away!” he told Bilbo as they lurched forward. Kili grabbed Bilbo and pulled him flat as bullets flew around them. They shot between the SUVs, leaving Thorin to duck back into the building, a look of fury on his face.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m pretty sure this isn’t what Thorin meant,” he suggested as they lurched round a corner and gunned the engine.</p><p> </p><p>“Sometimes you gotta use your initiative,” Fili assured him, grinning.</p><p> </p><p>“Though the point of his mission is, I believe, to keep me safe, not use me as bait to lure the people who are trying to kill me away from the people who are supposed to be protecting me!” Bilbo pointed out, clutching his plastic bag urgently. Kili popped up and leaned out of the window, firing at the first car which was fishtailing after them.</p><p> </p><p>“Ah. Then we may have a small problem,” he acknowledged as Fili skidded them sideways and into another small road.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you actually know where you’re going?” Bilbo asked him.</p><p> </p><p>“No-but neither do they,” the blond officer told him with a mad grin.</p><p> </p><p>“Try the satnav maps function,” Bilbo advised him, peering up and hearing the sounds of bullets hitting the bodywork. Kili lunged forward and fiddled with the navigation system as he crawled into the passenger seat. The screen lit and both officers cringed. “What?”</p><p> </p><p>“Dead end ahead,” Fili said as they roared into a car park behind a bowing alley.</p><p> </p><p>“Go that way!” Bilbo suggested, poking his head up to scan the surroundings as they circled, two SUVs spinning around with them in a crazy game of ‘follow the leader’.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s a gate-and a kerb…” Kili pointed out.</p><p> </p><p>“A very big kerb,” Fili agreed.</p><p> </p><p>“Just do it!” Bilbo snapped, checking with the screen. “Beyond the kerb is a car park for the movie theatre and then the main ring road…”</p><p> </p><p>“This is going to be a bump,” Fili warned as they sped forward…just as the third SUV arrived…and tried to ram them. Fili wrenched the car sideways and Bilbo swore he could almost feel the breeze as the SUV missed them by inches. He looked across and saw four men, all scarred and studded with piercings and staples raising their weapons. He ducked down as Fili slammed on the brakes, causing the SUV to overshoot before he peeled away and launched at the kerb. The whole car jolted and Bilbo wondered if they would just crash but instead they slammed down onto the dividing sidewalk and then crashed down again onto the car park on the far side. Kili whooped.</p><p> </p><p>“Knew we could do it!” he yelled.</p><p> </p><p>“Knew I used to have a spine,” Bilbo grumbled as they raced across the car park and barrelled out onto the ring road.</p><p> </p><p>“They’re still following,” Fili announced in a more serious voice. “We haven’t lost them…”</p><p> </p><p>“Now might be a good time for the rest of the team to turn up,” Bilbo told them pointedly as the SUV’s closed. “Or to drive faster…” Kili glanced back at him and nodded as they surged forward. “And did you actually have a plan?”</p><p> </p><p>“You mean beyond grabbing you and leading them away?” Kili asked him.</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe you should check with Thorin?” Bilbo asked them pointedly. “Or maybe tell him where you are?” They dinked from lane to lane, dodging among the light traffic as the SUVs closed. Kili grabbed his phone as it rang. He grimaced as he recognised the number.</p><p> </p><p>“Thorin!” he said warily.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Where are you?</em>” the familiar voice growled.</p><p> </p><p>“We’re on the Esgaroth Road,” Kili reported.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Is everyone safe?</em>”</p><p> </p><p>“Um…we’re alive…”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>And the Gundabads?</em>”</p><p> </p><p>“Same. And still following!” Fili called.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Take the turning towards Laketown, Dockside and the Piers and we’ll meet you there!”</em> Thorin ordered them.</p><p> </p><p>“Gotcha!” Fili said as Kili stared at his phone. Thorin had ended the call.</p><p> </p><p>“He’s gonna kill us,” he commented but Fili gave a grin.</p><p> </p><p>“No-just some light maiming,” he replied, though his brother was looking downcast.</p><p> </p><p>“Or banishment,” he mumbled. There was an awkward pause and they lurched across two lanes of traffic and turned a sharp right. Bilbo frowned.</p><p> </p><p>“Banishment?” he repeated as Kili nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“Thorin accepted our applications to work with the Company even though we’re young and inexperienced-though we have warriors’ hearts,” he revealed. “But he made in plain that if we messed up or put any of his men in danger through stupidity or recklessness, he would terminate our probation and send us back to regular duties.”</p><p> </p><p>“You have to understand-for Ereboreans-to be banished from an assignment is shameful,” Fili added in a sober voice, though they accelerated and almost squashed a duck waking across the road. “It is the gravest dishonour. It should lead to us being shunned, maybe even exiled from our family…”</p><p> </p><p>“Thorin would never do that,” Kili murmured. “He promised…”</p><p> </p><p>“Thorin? What about your other family…?” Bilbo asked, cautiously sitting up.</p><p> </p><p>“Thorin is our only direct family,” Fili said in a toneless voice that Bilbo wished he hadn’t heard. These lads were younger than he had been when he lost his parents and the way they said the words indicated that whatever had happened was some time in the past…and bad. “The Company have kind of adopted us as well…”</p><p> </p><p>“I won’t let him,” Bilbo found himself saying, not just because he was suddenly feeling intensely protective of the two young officers. Memories flashed up of the two wordlessly wrapping him in a double hug when he was so broken up about the explosion, the presumption the last members of his family he cared for were dead. They had known. Yavanna, they had known-and they were far too young for that knowledge. “We will work it out out…”</p><p> </p><p>“Docks ahead,” Fili announced as they turned off the road. Kili glanced in the mirror.</p><p> </p><p>“We still have our friends,” he said and reloaded. Bilbo ducked down.</p><p> </p><p>“Any plan?” he asked desperately.</p><p> </p><p>“The others!” Fili announced as they skidded onto a strip of cobbles running in front of converted warehouses that now appeared to be expensive restaurants, bars and apartments. Bilbo peeked and saw a jeep, a battered bright blue saloon and family compact roar past, the various members of the company leaning out of the windows and firing away at the following SUVs. Fili carefully crashed through a line of tables, took out a bill of fare shaped like a chef and demolished three planters before they skidded onto the actual dockside and started scattering pedestrians. Half jumped into the water of the docks with a few pausing to shake their fists before leaping for their lives.</p><p> </p><p>“I always wanted to visit Bree Dockside-it’s supposed to be a great place for a night out,” Kili mentioned as they skidded past a huge bollard made of iron that was half as wide as their car.</p><p> </p><p>“Or they would be before you lot destroyed them,” Bilbo grumped, hearing screams and snatching a glance back. Two somewhat battered and shot-up black SUVs had appeared racing after them. Fili muttered a curse in Ereborean which sounded very impressive and skidded round, demolishing a pizza kiosk. It promptly caught fire.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re not…” Kili said, grinning. Fili grinned back.</p><p> </p><p>“I am,” he confirmed and floored the gas pedal, launching them straight back at the oncoming vehicles. Both officers were firing wildly at the fast-approaching cars and Bilbo wondered precisely how this was protecting him…as Fili dodged at the very last moment and one SUV slammed directly into a bollard. It flipped and then toppled into the dock. The second spun round-just as the jeep exploded through a seafood restaurant and broadsided it, flipping it directly into the docks. Thorin and Dwalin leapt from the jeep and approached the water. There were a few shots fired and finally,silence fell. There was a pause and the other two cars trundled along the dockside to join them. Fili slowly drove back to park alongside the jeep and switched off the engine. He sighed.</p><p> </p><p>“Time to face the music,” he said and clambered out, with Kili beside him. The pair shared a look and then stood by the car, staring at the ground. Trembling, Bilbo slowly clambered out. Bofur was at his side in a second.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you okay, Bilbo?’ he asked, his tone concerned. Wordlessly, Bilbo nodded, making a few deep breaths.</p><p> </p><p>“Um…I seem to be alive…” he admitted. “Which may or may not be a shock. I’ll let you know when I finish therapy…” Bofur grinned.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank Mahal,” he breathed.</p><p> </p><p>“But definitely not these two,” Dwalin growled. “What were you thinking?”</p><p> </p><p>“I doubt any serious thinking went into that manoeuvre,” Balin added, his tone stern. Fili and Kili’s shoulders slumped and the Librarian could see that they were preparing themselves for bad news.Suddenly, he felt a surge of annoyance.</p><p> </p><p>“Excuse me,’ Bilbo cut in, his tone suddenly determined. “Is this really the place to conduct an inquest? I just note that we’re standing in the middle of a rather nice and now flattened French restaurant with loads of people standing around and I suspect the people with guns have friends?” There was a pause and Thorin nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“You are correct,” he growled and extended his hand. Fili handed the keys back. “In the back. This isn’t finished. Balin-with me also. Dwalin…?” The big man went and patted the front of the jeep.</p><p> </p><p>“She’s built of sterner stuff,” he confirmed. “Let’s go, lads!” Thorin walked to Bilbo’s side and inspected him.</p><p> </p><p>“You are unharmed? Truly?” he asked briskly and Bilbo nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“Shaken and probably on for a massive dose of PTSD someday but physically, I’m okay,” he replied and Thorin exhaled in what sounded suspiciously like relief.</p><p> </p><p>“I apologise,” he said sincerely. “I had no idea they would pull such a foolish stunt…” Biting his tongue that both as their commander and their Uncle, he should have a much better handle on them, Bilbo sighed.</p><p> </p><p>“I think…they were trying to protect you and the others,” he admitted. “Not that I approved of being turned from protected to bait but I understand the motivation. And I suspect they may have been trying to impress you.” Thorin’s eyes widened.</p><p> </p><p>“Why on Arda…” he muttered as they walked to the car.</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe because you’re all the family they have and when all is said and done, they’re still young men who want your approval,” he said and scrambled into the back. This time, Kili was sitting in the middle and Bilbo slammed the door, leaving Thorin to consider his words. Calmly he clambered into the driver’s seat and glanced in the rear view mirror.</p><p> </p><p>“Balin-we’ll head for High Pass and then…” He sighed. “Gairurukhsgirin. It’s deserted and hopefully no one is watching some dead settlement.”</p><p> </p><p>Bilbo made the mistake of looking up in time to meet Balin’s eyes in the mirror and winced. The oldest officer looked as if this was the worst idea in the world but what could Bilbo do? So he sank down in his seat and stared out of the window as they pulled off the dockside, past the burning pizza stand, wrecked restaurants and the burning wreck of the third SUV. Even more, it hammered home to realisation that this game seemed to be for keeps.</p><p> </p><p>oOo</p><p> </p><p>After three hours, Bilbo was wondering if maybe handing himself over was an option. Sitting crammed in the back seat of an absolutely silent car was doing terrible things for his mental health and the tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife, fork or spoon. Thorin was concentrating on driving-a good deal more safely than Fili, Bilbo willingly admitted-but he was silent, his gaze locked on the road. He was clearly paranoid because he had already doubled back on himself twice and cut across country to the extend they had found themselves driving through a field and arriving in a rather irate farmer’s yard by the pig pen before they had found their way back onto the road. There was no way to prevent random observation of the roads but with the man yelling at them from his quad bike and three farm workers racing up with pitchforks, Thorin seemed satisfied there was no obvious pursuit.</p><p> </p><p>Balin was actually dozing and the lads were sitting stock still, their tension palpable. Neither was speaking and they both looked as if they were hardly breathing but there was little Bilbo could do…and then he realised there was.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, this is ridiculous,” he announced. “There’s a cafe a mile ahead. Pull over. I need to stretch my legs, have a cup of tea and some lunch. This is far too stressful to be cooped up with you all scowling at one another.”</p><p> </p><p>There was an awkward silence but Thorin nodded,</p><p> </p><p>“We need more gas anyway,” he conceded. “And I am certain the Company won’t object.”</p><p> </p><p>Bilbo snatched a look at Kili at his side and-as expected-the young man looked relieved at the prospect of getting out of the sour atmosphere in the car for a few minutes. Certainly, the Librarian was aching to get some fresh air and a good cup of tea and he was relived when they pulled into the little rest stop. As Thorin pulled up by the gas pump, the rest clambered out and headed for the restaurant and store, seeing the other cars emptying. Bilbo made a bee-line for the restaurant, arriving at the counter and ordering a large pot of tea, a baked potato with beans and tinned tuna and the apple pie and cream. And then he sat gratefully at a six person table and closed his eyes, allowing the tea to brew for a few minutes.</p><p> </p><p>“Busy day,” Bofur said, grinning and sitting beside him. He was clutching a bottle of beer and a ticket for some food. Fili and Kili joined them, both with hot chocolates and packets of cookies-though they both hastened to reassure Bilbo they had ordered proper food as well. Ori joined them with a mug of bright purple fruit tea and an oat muffin as well as a bowl of thick meaty soup and a huge hunk of farmhouse bread and butter. The others populated the tables around them, chatting reasonably quietly for the Company and calling out when their orders were called. Bilbo smiled gratefully when his food arrived and poked his potato with a smile before tucking in. He hadn’t really eaten breakfast and was starving. After all, his father had always told him that any problem seemed less hopeless on a full stomach-true Shire thinking if he ever heard it. But there was no dispute that he felt better for the food.</p><p> </p><p>Thorin was last in, having paid for the gas for all four vehicles and Bilbo watched him just order two mugs of black coffee before trooping to a table well away from the Company and slumping in his seat. He cast a questioning look at the others. Bofur shrugged.</p><p> </p><p>“Not the most sociable, our Thorin,” he explained around bites of his pie. “Sometimes he needs his space.” Fili and Kili nodded in unison.</p><p> </p><p>“When he’s in one of those moods, it’s best to steer clear,” Fili advised.</p><p> </p><p>“Which we may or may not have made worse,” Kili confessed with a wry smile. In that moment, the young man he first met returned and Bilbo felt himself smiling. Then he glanced over at Thorin and sighed, then rose and walked to the counter, ordering a plate of stew and potatoes. Then he returned and refilled his mug of tea, putting in only a drop of milk and gathering his apple pie and cream.</p><p> </p><p>“I need to have a quiet word with him anyway,” he said with a smile and walked over to sit determinedly opposite Thorin. The woman from the kitchen walked up and-at Bilbo’s assent-placed the plate down in front of Thorin. He looked up to refuse but the woman had already walked away.</p><p> </p><p>“I owe you an apology,” Bilbo interrupted him, seeing him take a gulp of his black coffee from the second mug. The first, on inspection, was already empty and the Librarian sighed. “And that is no proper meal.” Thorin sighed.</p><p> </p><p>“Is this how you apologise?” he asked dryly.</p><p> </p><p>“In the Shire, yes,” Bilbo replied without shame. “Apologies are always accompanied by food-preferably home made though I couldn’t see you dropping me off at someone’s house for a couple of hours just so I could bake a cake…” Against his will, Thorin felt his lips quirk up in the hint of a smile.</p><p> </p><p>“You guessed correctly, Master Baggins,” he confirmed. “I shall repay you for…”</p><p> </p><p>“Insufferable Ereborean!” Bilbo snapped. “Accept the food in the spirit it was offered. You need to eat-and rest, I’ll wager.” Thorin frowned. “Even if you didn’t look wrecked, I know you were on guard in my room last night. And I don’t take you for a man who sleeps on duty.” Slowly, the officer grabbed a spoon and took and mouthful of the stew, humming in appreciation at the thick gravy and the tender meat and vegetables.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you,” he mumbled.</p><p> </p><p>“I really am sorry,” Bilbo added as he swallowed the mouthful. “I shouldn’t have punched you. It wasn’t fair-or right.” Thorin speared a potato and bit it savagely.</p><p> </p><p>“No,” he said. “But I understand. You had lost people you cared for and you needed someone to blame.”</p><p> </p><p>“But you didn’t send the parcel…or the bomb it contained,” Bilbo told him. “Those things take time to set up, don’t they?”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Damn.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Yes,” Thorin confirmed, chewing the potato.</p><p> </p><p>“More than a week?”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Double damn.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Sometimes.”</p><p> </p><p>Bilbo stared at him.</p><p> </p><p>“How sometimes?”</p><p> </p><p>“Almost always,” he said, dabbing his mouth with the paper napkin and taking another slug of coffee. He was too caffeine- and sleep-deprived to deal with this right now.</p><p> </p><p>“So he may have been setting this up before we even met?” Bilbo asked him quietly.</p><p> </p><p>“There is no evidence of that,” Thorin replied, falling back on the stock answer.</p><p> </p><p>“Absence of evidence is not evidence of absence,” Bilbo retorted.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Triple damn.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“It is a possibility but at present we have to deal with what we know we are facing,” Thorin told him, spooning in another mouthful and chewing too fast. “Fact: you met with Smaug eight days ago. Fact: you declined a second date. Fact: he bombarded you with texts and unwanted gifts. Fact: he broke into your apartment and opened your mail. Fact: your cat was killed in a way that could only be interpreted as a message. Fact: Your cousins received a parcel addressed to you that should never have rightfully been delivered there and their home was destroyed by a powerful explosive device. Fact: the Gundabads attacked the safe house suggesting some breakdown of security within the department since they found it far too quickly for my liking.Beyond that, all else is supposition.”</p><p> </p><p>“I still shouldn’t have blamed you for their deaths,” Bilbo told him quietly. Thorin laid down his spoon.</p><p> </p><p>“I do,” he admitted. “I should have anticipated that bastard would find someone who you valued to hurt. It’s the way he works…” There was a pause as Bilbo absently took a bite of his apple pie.</p><p> </p><p>“How long have you been after him?” he asked in a low, toneless voice.</p><p> </p><p>“Twenty five years,” was the bald reply. “He’s cautious and dangerous and very hard to get a trail back to. You are the best lead we’ve had for a decade. I am not going to allow anything to happen to you…because you are the best hope we’ve had of bringing him down since…” And then he shook his head and took another mouthful of his stew.</p><p> </p><p>“You can’t blame yourself,” Bilbo told him quietly. “I don’t. I was angry but I wasn’t being fair.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s forgotten,” Thorin told him. “Just please don’t run off again. Losing you would set us back another decade…and I’m not sure I have another decade of this chase in me.” He sounded exhausted and Bilbo nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“You have my word,” he said as Thorin’s clear blue gaze swept over him with an approving look. “This place you’re taking us-is it safe? Balin looked less than enthusiastic…”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s safe-for now,” Thorin told him. “But once it wasn’t and the Gundabads do know the location…though it’s highly unlikely they would believe we or anyone would seek shelter there.” Bilbo sighed and took another pie of his pie.</p><p> </p><p>“Somehow, I think I’m not going to enjoy this,” he said.</p><p> </p><p>-o0o-</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>A/N:</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Gairurukhsgirin = Goblin Town</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Thank you to The Dwarrow Scholar.</b>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chaper Six</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>SIX:</b>
</p><p> </p><p>They had raided the shop before leaving, cleaning it out of provisions and grabbing what they thought they would need-including some more clothes for Bilbo. It had been chastening and a little embarrassing to find Thorin leading him round the rather limited selection and handing him heavy jeans, tee shirt, plaid shirt, sweater and coat, as well as smallthings, socks and a pair of sturdy walking boots. He glanced at Bilbo and added gloves and a scarf as well then dropped a cap on top. Bilbo knew he would need to change most of the sizes but Thorin paused.</p><p> </p><p>“We’re going into the mountains and it will be cold,” he explained. “We all have appropriate clothes with us but you don’t. Change the sizes but not the garb. I’ll wait at the cashier to pay.”</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t have to…” he began but Thorin grunted.</p><p> </p><p>“As you weren’t granted the opportunity to pack a bag and bring your own clothes, departmental policy dictates that we pay for suitable garb. And that extends as well to when we take you to a location where specialised clothing is required.” Bilbo sighed, conceding the point.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay. Thank you,” he said in an awkward voice then gestured. “I need to change the sizes. I mean, I’ll be swamped in most of these…” Nodding, Thorin paced over to another rack as the rest of the Company browsed, his eyes laser focussed on his task though Bilbo caught him casting a brief, intense glance at him. Frowning and mildly disconcerted, Bilbo went to collect the correct sizes and in some cases, colours. Thorin had typically chosen his signature blacks and dark blues while Bilbo was really a green and brown man and if he was going to be dressed for the wild, at least he could look a bit more like himself. Finally satisfied at his selections, he returned to the cashier to find Thorin already paying for a carrier bag full of items. He gestured to the cashier. “He’s with me,” he added briskly. The man grinned, eyes sliding between the two men.</p><p> </p><p>“Boyfriend, eh?” he assumed and began to scan the items through as Bilbo blushed scarlet and Thorin rolled his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“That obvious, hmm?” he said in a low voice as the young man continued scanning through.</p><p> </p><p>“You’d be surprised,” the cashier commented, folding the clothes expertly as he slid them into the bag.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.”</p><p> </p><p>“Off somewhere?” the young cashier persisted amiably as Bilbo now looked like he was about to burst into flames.</p><p> </p><p>“Hiking to a nice secluded cabin, off Greenwood,” Thorin offered equably, sounding most unlike his usual gruff self. “My friends are heading off on a hiking challenge but we’re looking for a quiet getaway.”</p><p> </p><p>“Have you been together long?” the cashier asked, finishing bagging the items and jiggling the carrier to fit in the little packet of smallclothes. Thorin cleared his throat.</p><p> </p><p>“Not that long,” he said. “This is our first weekend break alone…” The young man chuckled and handed the purchases over to Bilbo, who took the bag silently. Thorin handed his card over without comment and signed the slip, then nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, have a good break,” the young man wished them and Thorin nodded with a faint smile. Bilbo managed a strained smile as he followed Thorin out and then glared at the Police Officer once they were outside.</p><p> </p><p>“Why…?” he began but Thorin sighed, rummaging in his bag and pulling out a green and brown backpack, handing it over.</p><p> </p><p>“He’ll remember the gay couple going hiking and heading for a cabin near Greenwood,” he said as if it were obvious. “So if anyone asks, that’s what he’ll say. We’re heading in the opposite direction.” Grasping the backpack, Bilbo nodded, curiously annoyed that his private life-but not really-was being used as camouflage.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t suppose there are changing facilities?” he asked more snarkily than he had intended.</p><p> </p><p>“I’d use the restroom,” Thorin advised. “There may not be much time later…” So Bilbo headed back into the building with an irritated glare while Thorin gazed after him, folding his arms across his chest.</p><p> </p><p>“I recognise that look,” Dwalin told him. A curt nod was the only reply. “You’re getting to tolerate him.”</p><p> </p><p>“He’s not designed for cold, harsh conditions,” Thorin said flatly. “He’s a child of the kindly west. The Shire is perhaps the best part of Eriador, save the valley of Imladris which is secluded from all comers, save by invitation.”</p><p> </p><p>“Don't suppose you could swing one of those?” the big man asked.</p><p> </p><p>“My grandfather-maybe. Me-not a hope,” his leader told him plainly. “I think I insulted everyone at the last conference on organised crime when they all agreed Smaug, Firewyrm and the Gundabads are solely ours to deal with. Blasted elf descendants. Never wanting to involve themselves in anyone else’s problems until the monsters are directly knocking on their doors. And treating us as if we were lesser…” Dwalin patted him on the shoulder, recognising the edge of an old grudge.</p><p> </p><p>“I get the idea,” he said gruffly. “No one ever likes Ereboreans, do they?” Thorin sighed, forcing himself to calm.</p><p> </p><p>“My ancestors didn’t really help with relations to the other Kingdoms but times have changed,” he murmured. “I thought we were supposed to be the ones to have long memories…but it seems, no one ever forgets.” Dwalin grasped his shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>“Neither do I,” he murmured. “Not that night…and what came after. You saved my life, more than once.” Awarding him a small smile, Thorin mirrored the gesture.</p><p> </p><p>“Then we are even,” he said. Dwalin leaned close.</p><p> </p><p>“Get some sleep, Thorin,” he advised. “You look like shit. Balin knows the way.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll consider it,” he sighed and nodded to the older man who had silently walked up. Balin extended his hand and Thorin handed over the keys with an approving look from the older man at his younger brother.</p><p> </p><p>“A wise decision, laddie,” Balin commented. “Though I was afraid you may consider handing over the keys to Fili.”</p><p> </p><p>“Never again,” Thorin swore, his brows dipping in a scowl. “He almost got himself, Kili and Bilbo killed.”</p><p> </p><p>“A move worthy of a raw, eager and completely reckless young recruit I once knew,” Balin commented dryly, his eyes twinkling. Thorin scowled at him.</p><p> </p><p>“I was never that reckless,” he objected.</p><p> </p><p>“You attacked and fought the Gundabads when you were alone,” Balin reminded him. “You should have run.”</p><p> </p><p>“They would have found Frerin and Dis,” Thorin bit out, his voice tight. “I had to stay to cover their escape. And I would never surrender.”</p><p> </p><p>“You nearly died,” Balin pointed out. “And when we found you, you were on the brink of death. You were the wildest member of the Company at the start because you were so desperate for vengeance…” Thorin shook his head.</p><p> </p><p>“Just don’t banish the boys,” Dwalin murmured quietly. He was greeted with a scornful look from their leader.</p><p> </p><p>“No matter how angry I may be at them for their recklessness, I can still recall what it was like being young,” he said. “And I promised her to look after them as my own, to protect them. I can’t do that if they aren’t in the Company. I’ll talk to them before they set off again.” Balin nodded as he drifted to the car while Thorin looked around and headed off towards the two shapes of his nephews, who were deep in conversation with Ori and Bofur. Balin sighed as he watched Thorin beckon his nephews and pull them aside for a private word. Both young men paled but pulled back their shoulders and faced the brooding shape of their Uncle bravely.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, they don’t lack courage, just the wisdom when to exercise it,” he mumbled. “I think having our Mister Baggins with us for a few days will help them all.” Dwalin folded his arms and frowned. “Bilbo seems to have adopted them like younger brothers. And Ori. Bofur really likes him.”</p><p> </p><p>“He ran off,” Dwalin pointed out.</p><p> </p><p>“He had just found out his closest relatives had been killed-and not one of you others made any move to reassure him. He was right-we have been slack in welcoming and reassuring him. Thorin sometimes forgets that we aren’t all invested in his personal quest. But even he has unfrozen very slightly to our Bilbo.” Dwalin nodded, reluctantly conceding the point.</p><p> </p><p>“I’l round up the Company,” he said practically. “It’s time to go.”</p><p> </p><p>When Bilbo emerged in his new clothes with his belongings all securely stowed in his new backpack, he glanced over to see Thorin having a serious talk to his nephews, their heads bowed and shoulders slumped. A large part of him wanted to go over there and speak up for the lads…buthe recognised this was Thorin’s Company and his kinsmen. But from talking to him, he trusted that Thorin would not cast aside two of his men when they were all fleeing for their lives and from the chastened way that the younger men were holding themselves, it seemed they were having their ears chewed off. Perhaps it would provide a lesson to think before they acted in future.</p><p> </p><p>He sighed and headed for the car, standing by the gently smiling shape of Balin.</p><p> </p><p>“You look much better prepared for an adventure now, Master Baggins,” Balin commented with a twinkle in his eyes. Fashioning a small smile, Bilbo gave a small spin and returned to face the older officer.</p><p> </p><p>“Do I pass muster?” he asked with a small smile.</p><p> </p><p>“Aye, laddie-you’ll do,” Balin said cheerfully as Bilbo’s eyes drifted over to the young officers.</p><p> </p><p>“He won’t send them away?” he asked softly. “That was what they were most worried about-and I could see they…well, they’re idiots but they absolutely trusted you would get them out of the mess. And they wanted to protect you all.” He sighed. “Sorry-it’s really none of my business but I can see they’re just young…” Balin patted him companionably on the shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>“Underneath his gruff exterior, Thorin loves his nephews and will do anything to protect them,” Balin murmured, smiling cheerfully. “He’ll put the fear of Mahal in them before he finishes but he won’t let them out of his sight. Hopefully they will learn.” Bilbo nodded as the three men walked back to the car. Fili and Kili were subdued while Thorin was scowling. He jerked his head.</p><p> </p><p>“In-and no more mistakes,” he snapped, getting into the passenger seat. Bilbo occupied his window seat, this time getting Fili sitting next to him. The blond young man flashed a brief, watery smile, though he looked thoughtful. Balin clambered into the driver’s seat and carefully adjusted the seat to his much shorter stature. He cast a look at the shape of Thorin, settled comfortably in the passenger seat and he nodded. “You know the way, Balin,” Thorin assured him. “Wake me when we’re half an hour away.” And then he closed his eyes and he was asleep before they had even pulled away.</p><p> </p><p>-o0o-</p><p> </p><p>The afternoon was waning when the cars pulled off the main road and started up a long and rough track that finally led to a picnic area. Finally, the convoy pulled to a halt and the cramped Company all clambered out with relief. Thorin had woken as they turned off the main highway and was muttering to Balin in rapid Khuzdul so that Bilbo was tempted to reveal that he could understand them. Yet there was a stubborn core of irritation that made him hold his tongue: he had lived in Erebor for a couple of years and if they assumed he hadn’t picked up any of their blasted language in that time, it was their own lookout. At least Thorin looked less exhausted and more like his controlled self as they exited the car and gathered their belongings.</p><p> </p><p>In fact, Bilbo was amazed how much luggage they had managed to cram into the random assortment of vehicles as more and more backpacks, duffle bags and rucksacks emerged and the Company grabbed their coats, bags and provisions. Thorin slung a long leather coat over his body and folded his suit coat into the duffel bag he slung across his shoulders, glancing round his Company. Bilbo realised that they were all kitted out in tough boots, hardy but warm clothing and armed and as he glanced over at Thorin, he gave a nod.</p><p> </p><p>“This will be a trek,” Thorin explained gravely.</p><p> </p><p>“I have done my fair share of walking holidays back in the Shire,” Bilbo shot back spiritedly. “I’ve even gone as far as Frogmorton once…” Raising an unimpressed eyebrow, Thorin huffed.</p><p> </p><p>“Stay in the middle of the Company,” he ordered Bilbo. “Fili, Kili, Bofur, Dori-keep close to him at all times. Dwalin-with me. Bombur, Gloin-bring up the rear. Move out!” Adjusting his backpack and stowing away his scarf, hat and sweater before he started, Bilbo cast a last glance back at the cars-carefully concealed with branches and brush-and headed off into the woods with the Company.</p><p> </p><p>Thorin set a stern pace, his eyes locked on the mountains rising ahead. They had turned west from the road to the Greenwood and had driven as far as they could into a deep ravine before taking to the trails and heading up. Bilbo was muttering to himself about blasted interfering coworkers when they topped a low ridge and paused for a break, glancing over another stretch of rolling woodland. Flasks of water were handed round and Bilbo glanced over at the others. Half of them looked grumpy and the rest just looked tired: it had been a long and rather eventful day. But after ten minutes, they were walking again, heading back into the woods. It was only as the light began grow golden with impending sunset that they hit a steep rocky path and Thorin glanced back at his team.</p><p> </p><p>“Not long now,” he called in encouragement, though the steep pathway just caused another chorus of groans.Fili and Kili fell into step beside Bilbo as they trudged up the track.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you know where we’re going?” the Librarian asked in a low voice, his heart sinking as the two young officers shook their heads. They were carrying sturdy rucksacks and were laden with weapons, with Kili carrying a high-tech bow.</p><p> </p><p>“Thorin didn’t really share with us,” Fili explained. “And technically, we’re out of Ereborean jurisdiction anyway. Though when we’re hunting Smaug and his gang, it doesn’t really seem to matter.”</p><p> </p><p>“Except to HQ,” Kili added. “Usually when something’s got shot up, blown up or generally trashed and they want to get an explanation from Uncle Thorin.” Fili chuckled.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, he’s never especially happy after those conversations,” he confirmed as Bilbo’s mind supplied the details. Thorin, zealous and driven to catch the man he clearly knew and loathed, pushing the boundaries and then trampling far over them and causing all sorts of chaos. And then facing superiors with cooler heads and no personal skin in the game who wouldn’t understand Thorin’s passion and his stubbornness…and who would tear strips off him for making the force look bad and causing them embarrassment rather than understanding his determination to do whatever was needed to catch a vicious murderous gangster.</p><p> </p><p>“So do you do this sort of thing often?” Bilbo asked, his eyes sweeping up the steepening trail, the light grey stone dappled by the westering light. Thorin was maintaining a brisk walk, Dwalin keeping pace at his side and sharing a discussion in low Khuzdul. Fili sighed.</p><p> </p><p>“We haven’t been with the Company that long,” he admitted, “but the others have told us about the times when they needed to go off the beaten track…”</p><p> </p><p>“You mean Thorin makes a habit of this?” Bilbo checked as the brothers shared a look.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, he used to take us out camping and walking when we were younger,” Kili revealed. “He wanted us to do all the things he got to do as a boy. So we used to go wild camping, hunting, mountaineering…”</p><p> </p><p>Bilbo’s mind unhelpfully supplied an image of Thorin scaling a sheer cliff, the wind catching his hair and he had to mentally kick himself to concentrate on where he was walking as he stumbled and almost fell over.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh?” he managed.</p><p> </p><p>“I know he looks like a miserable scowling grump but honestly, he was so much fun when we were kids,” Kili continued cheerfully. “I mean, he taught us to trap, to fight…he even taught me to use a bow and arrows! I never even knew he could fire a bow…it’s kind of looked down on as an Ereborean…”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes-traditional Ereborean weapons are axes and swords,” Fili continued. “But Ki just didn’t seem to have the knack with swords especially when he was a shrimp so Uncle Thorin found a weapon he could use and master…” He grinned. “He was actually incredibly patient.”</p><p> </p><p>“He’s always been incredibly patient with us,” Kili reminded him pensively. “No matter how we messed up. And he never let us take the blame when we caused trouble and he was supposed to be in charge of us.”</p><p> </p><p>“Like that time we went hiking on the slopes of Mount Erebor and Ki ran off,” Fili continued eagerly. “He bet me he could bring down a ptarmigan for lunch and he just shot off. I of course ran after him and before Thorin could stop us we were both halfway down a scree slope and accelerating as half the slope followed us. He ended up having to race after us and when he finally caught up with us, Kili had sprained an ankle and I had a lump on my head the size of an egg from the sliding rocks. He ended up basically having to carry us both back up the mountain slope to try to get back to the vehicles. But instead we all got caught when a blizzard hit out of the blue. I think Thorin knew it was coming when he told us it was time to turn back-which we ignored-but he didn’t yell at us: he just dug us in, hunkered down and made sure there was a fire and shelter and we stayed alive. The mountain rescue found us after about twelve hours and took us home. Mom and Dad were madder than I’d ever seen them.”</p><p> </p><p>“Not with us, of course,” Kili explained. “We were given some really good hot chocolate and burgers while Dad yelled at Thorin.” He winced. “I thought he was going to go mental. I mean, I had never seen Dad that mad, before or since.” Fili grimaced.</p><p> </p><p>“He told Thorin that we were not his children and that he had no right to put us at risk just so he could pretend that he was still the Head of the family with Heirs to raise. That it was Thorin’s choice not to have a family. That we were Dad’s sons not Thorin’s and that he wanted nothing to do with Thorin’s history and his cursed family line. That if he ever risked us again, he would kill him.”</p><p> </p><p>“Mom was worse,” Kili reminded him. “She punched Thorin. Twice. And yelled that he was irresponsible, selfish and reckless. She basically threw him out of the house…and he went. Not a word. No argument. He didn’t defend himself at all. He just gathered himself up and left.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ki and I ran down after he had left and tried to argue with them…because he looked completely defeated. I mean, this was Thorin, who had tramped halfway across Rhovannon with us and who knew how to survive a blizzard and had sheltered us with his own body to keep us warm but they wouldn’t listen. Mom was so upset because she thought something horrible had happened to us-so Ki owned up that he had run off and Thorin had to rescue us.” Fili’s brow furrowed. “They still didn’t listen. They blamed Thorin because he was the adult and we just felt awful because we were the only family he had.”</p><p> </p><p>“No one argued with Mom when she was mad,” Kili told Bilbo. “I mean, she was scary! Even Thorin used to try not to annoy her.”</p><p> </p><p>“She sounds like a formidable woman,” Bilbo said softly, realising the memories could be hard for the young men. He wiped his brow as the path grew steeper.</p><p> </p><p>“She was,” Fili admitted. “But she was absolutely furious with Thorin after that. I heard her yelling on the phone to him later that evening.”</p><p> </p><p>“Mom and Dad didn’t let us see him for six months,” Kili sighed. “And it was always awkward afterwards even when Mom said he could see us again. But he took still us on treats, hikes, activities whenever he could-though Mom and Dad insisted he told them exactly where we were going. I literally think the times he spent with us were the only vacations he ever had-especially from observing him since we’ve been in the Company and in the police service. Mom and Dad wouldn’t invite him over again for any holidays-well, Dad wouldn’t. He always said that Thorin was trouble, that his obsession threatened us all. So he spent all the holidays without his family.” He shook his head. “It wasn’t fair. Especially with what happened after…But Dad…just never trusted him.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I wonder why? What else is going on that you don’t know-or aren’t telling me?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“But when Mom and Dad died, Mom had asked Thorin to look after us, to protect us,” Fili murmured softly. “And he did. We were just devastated and he was…always there. He was just...our Uncle, Mom's brother, the person who swore he would always protect us. I think he even took time off work to be with us, to make sure we weren’t alone. And you’ve seen that his work is everything. He was great. And though we did family stuff, he never let us forget Mom and Dad. Though he did take us on more hikes to toughen us up…”</p><p> </p><p>“Though I never ran off again…” Kili pointed out.</p><p> </p><p>“Technically, you both ran off with me today,” Bilbo pointed out as the lads looked at him-then burst out laughing.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay-until today,” Fili conceded. “And Thorin chewed our asses off for being such idiots.”</p><p> </p><p>“You were idiots,” Bilbo told them. “But you’re Thorin’s idiots and I think you both know he won’t kick you out of the Company. Though if there’s latrine duty or something similar, you’ll be on it…”</p><p> </p><p>“I never thought you were so mean, Mister Boggins,” Kili teased him. “That’s almost exactly what Thorin said…”</p><p> </p><p>“Great minds think alike,” Bilbo replied airily as they hit a flatter section of path, breathing heavily. The others had already rounded the corner and there seemed an awful lot of pathway still to go. He sighed. “Now all we need is to find wherever we’re getting to and then I can finally sit down and allow my feet to fall off in peace…”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter Seven</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>SEVEN:</b>
</p><p> </p><p>It was a couple of hours after nightfall when the Company reached their destination, an unpromising cave off the side of the track high in the mountains. Bilbo was unnerved-not just because there was a several hundred foot below the edge of the path and a hundred foot sheer cliff rising above them. The sky was clear, the cold white stars flickering amid the inky night and only the torches of the Company lighting the way. Exhausted, drenched with sweat and yet clammy with the cold air, Bilbo stared as Thorin and Dwalin vanished inside and checked the cave was secure before beckoning the others to find their way in.</p><p> </p><p>Hanging back behind the eager Company, Bilbo slowly made his way forward-rubbing his back as the others ambled ahead of him and casting a final glance at the uneven pathway. Despite his claims of experience, he hadn’t actually been on such a trek for years and he was exhausted-so he reacted slowly as the edge crumbled under his foot and he gave an incoherent cry. There was a moment where everything seemed to be moving in slow motion as he felt his weight lurch sideways over the edge and he flung his hands out, reaching for something-anything-to arrest his fall. But no one was close enough and he felt his body pitch over the edge.</p><p> </p><p>“BILBO!”</p><p> </p><p>He heard Bofur’s cry at the same time as something snagged his arm. His feet scrabbled over the yawning drop and he felt his head spin, a sense of dislocation washing over him. The knowledge of the magnitude of the drop beneath him made him feel dizzy as he slammed into the rock, knocking the breath from him. Bofur was peering over the drop and hanging onto his hand, though Bilbo could feel the grip slipping. His hand-already sweaty and clammy from the walk-was now clammier from fear and he could feel Bofur’s rough skin sliding over his. His other hand wafted wildly, trying to catch something that could arrest his terminal plunge. Then he was aware of movement to one side and felt a strong grip grab his coat, lifting him up and tossing him back onto the path. He landed on all fours, a panting puddle of adrenaline and completely shocked. Every limb was trembling violently as he glanced over to see Thorin, who had dived over the edge to rescue Bilbo, his boots planted on a tiny ledge that promptly crumbled under him as he shifted to clamber back up. But as he stiffened, Dwalin was already there, hauling him up to safety. He rose to stand imperiously on the path by Bilbo’s shocked form, breathing hard.</p><p> </p><p>Without hesitation, Thorin grasped Bilbo’s hand and carefully tugged him back onto his feet, staring into Bilbo’s white face.</p><p> </p><p>“Better get you inside, Master Baggins,” he murmured as if he hadn’t just almost fallen to his death as well. “The path isn’t exactly well maintained and it’s easier to take a bad step in the dark.” Carefully, he pulled Bilbo into the cave, glancing over to Bofur. “Good work, Bofur. very quick reactions. Gloin-a fire maybe? Dori-could you sort out the sleeping arrangements? Bombur-we need something hot and soon. I think we’re all tired and cold. Nori-you’ve got the first watch. But no one is to explore further back tonight-we need daylight and clear heads before we go wandering deeper into the mountain.”</p><p> </p><p>“Uncle…” Fili began, shocked at the almost-loss of Bilbo but Thorin shook his head.</p><p> </p><p>“There is no blame,” he said evenly, clapping his nephew on the shoulder. “Everyone is here safely.” Bilbo felt awkward, for Thorin was still holding his hand and though he really was pretty okay with that, they had other things to be thinking about. Carefully, he pulled his hand free.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you,’ he murmured. “For saving my life.” Frowning, Thorin nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“All part of the service,” he murmured and walked over to talk to Bifur. Groaning, Bilbo removed his backpack and scrubbed his face with his hands.</p><p> </p><p>“You okay, laddie?” Balin asked him cheerily, his eyes still twinkling.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh yes-my PTSD is coming along really well,” Bilbo managed to snark back in a shaky voice. “What are we doing here, Balin?”</p><p> </p><p>“Hiding,” Balin replied amiably. “The Gundabads found us far too easily. Somewhere there is a leak in our lines of communication-so we’ve gone completely off grid. No one knows where we are.”</p><p> </p><p>“No one?” he murmured. The older man nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“Thorin’s message was very economical. ‘Going off grid. Will contact in due course’. That’s it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Can anyone contact us?”</p><p> </p><p>“Not at present but there will be capability once we get set up,” Balin assured him.</p><p> </p><p>“How?” Bilbo’s eyes narrowed.</p><p> </p><p>“This location is isolated but the Company are not unprepared,” Balin smiled enigmatically. “I know we may not have demonstrated our capabilities, Master Baggins, but I am sure, before this is done, we may surprise you.” Tiredly, Bilbo nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m just dying for a cup of tea,” he admitted.</p><p> </p><p>“Ah-I’ll have Bofur…”</p><p> </p><p>“No!” Bilbo yelped. Balin’s eyes widened. “No!” Bilbo repeated in a loud whisper. “Look, I know he means well but his tea is just…horrible. Terrible. Appalling. An insult to tea. If there is, indeed, any actual tea in his tea. All I can taste is milk and sugar.” Frowning, Balin leaned closer.</p><p> </p><p>“Isn’t that supposed to be how tea tastes?” he asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Ah. A coffee drinker,” Bilbo guessed. Balin winked. “No. You should be able to taste the aromas and flavours of the tea, infused carefully into the hot-<em>not boiling</em>-water with a smidge of milk to taste. Not drowned in milk and then buried under seven spoons of sugar…”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sure he doesn’t…” Balin began and then read Bilbo’s cynical expression. “Really? Ah. Aye, then I see your point. Ask Dori next time. The man is a connoisseur of wine and he also appreciates his teas and infusions.” Bilbo smiled, shrugging off his backpack.</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks-I’ll definitely do that!” he said and slumped to a seat on the floor. “Anything I should be doing?” Balin patted him on the shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>“I think catching your breath and working on your PTSD will do just fine, laddie,” he said and ambled off.</p><p> </p><p>Fili and Kili joined him shortly after and distracted him with more tales of their childhood, making him wonder how Thorin even survived being uncle to them. The pair sounded like the most wilfully destructive and disobedient pair who shamelessly egged each other on and disregarded all orders designed to keep them safe…until it was too late. They didn’t talk about their parents at all, the subject still clearly painful for them and Bilbo’s heart ached for them, though he was impressed at how well they were dealing with the challenges of the Company who in turn watched her the young men. His cogitations were interrupted by Dori who brought over a perfectly brewed cup of Earl Grey which had Bilbo in fits of delight and gratitude and triggered a very serious and detailed discussion on the subject of tea that had the brothers staring in shock. And then Bombur called them over for a surprisingly good and filling goulash and rice that he had whipped up over the camp fire using the provisions they had rescued from the safe house and gathered from the little store.</p><p> </p><p>Watching the Company eat, Bilbo decided this was certainly an Ereborean thing as they attacked the food like starving men-something no Shire resident would dream of . Shirelings were always taught to savour their food, never fearing for lack of produce or hospitality. But at the end of the meal, the Company sat back and finally, they seemed to relax. Jokes were told, members were teased and old conversations picked up. And observing them properly, now he knew them a bit better and without the strop he had been indulging in the previous day, he could see there was great affection between all the members. Even Oin-who had two very high tech hearing aids in-joined in the merriment. Bofur began singing, prancing around the circle and everyone joined in, laughing and chuckling at the memories. But as he sat back, Bilbo still felt excluded. He didn’t share their heritage or their in-jokes and certainly couldn’t join in the songs. Pangs of homesickness hit him then, more strongly than they had for many months. This was why he didn’t tend to go out with his coworkers, because he felt like a fish out of water amid such extroverted and jolly people…but then, his own mild social phobia had marked him out as unusual among the folk of the Shire as well. But at least he shared a cultural heritage with them and knew the songs…</p><p> </p><p>He pulled himself together. There was no reason for him to be miserable…save for the obvious, that he was being stalked and hunted by a dangerous psychopath and his closest relations had been blown to bits this morning… He choked.</p><p> </p><p><em>This morning. Had it only been this morning? So much had happened that it seemed longer…</em> He closed his eyes and took a shaky breath.</p><p> </p><p>Immediately warm arms wrapped around him as Fili and Kili hugged him. Their expressions were usually grave and he realised they had been watching him closely, waiting for the dam to crumble. Quietly, he allowed the hug and relaxed once more, just allowing them to make him feel included. Finally, they pulled away.</p><p> </p><p>“You better?” Fili murmured and Bilbo nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry-being a complete milksop here,” he mumbled, his breathing evening out. “It just hits me sometimes…” Kili nodded, gripping his shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, we know,” he said calmly, his eyes pensive. “And we’re available for hugging duty any time.” Sighing, Bilbo nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“I appreciate it,” he mumbled. “And the offer goes both ways.” The younger brother glanced over at Fili.</p><p> </p><p>“He is rather huggable,” he admitted.</p><p> </p><p>“Just no more insane car chases,” the Librarian added as both young men sighed.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah-Thorin made that very clear,” Fili conceded.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, unless Thorin orders one,” Kili piped up, his irrepressible smile quirking his mouth up. Rolling his eyes and praying things would never get that desperate, Bilbo nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“Now, I think I need to turn in,” he said. “Any idea where we’re sleeping?”</p><p> </p><p>The brother smiled.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re with us,” they said.</p><p> </p><p>-o0o-</p><p> </p><p>In fact, the bedrolls were set up in the far corner of the cave, sheltered from the entrance and close to the fire. Bilbo’s place was set up next to the brothers-who were never separated-with a thick pad and blanket. Using his coat as a pillow, he managed to roll himself up in the little nest and settled quickly: after all, he had done a lot of camping in the Shire with various cousins and he was usually able to fall asleep immediately.</p><p> </p><p>What he hadn’t banked on were the facts that the Company were all very warm and he found found himself surrounded by bodies radiating obscene amounts of heat and who also snored loud enough to wake the dead. In addition, Fili and Kili fidgeted like mad and Bilbo found himself swiftly wrapped in the brothers. So trapped and hot, he found himself wide awake, staring at the roof of the cave and watching the the watchman-Nori-slowly do his rounds before settling by the entrance. Sighing, Bilbo fidgeted and found Kili wrapping himself even tighter around him.</p><p> </p><p>Sometime as Oin was getting up for his shift on watch, Bilbo fell asleep.</p><p> </p><p>He awoke with a yelp as Fili flicked his nose and he sat up like a shot, frowning and irritated.</p><p> </p><p>“OW! And what was that for?” he protested angrily. The blond officer grinned.</p><p> </p><p>“You wouldn’t let Ki go,” he admitted, pointing to the dishevelled Kili who was trying straighten his shirt. “You were hugging him like a teddy bear.”</p><p> </p><p>“Tightly,” the younger brother protested.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh. I am sorry-though I didn’t wake you up when you were wrapped over me like octopi immediately after you fell asleep!” Bilbo retorted, rubbing his nose. The brothers chuckled.</p><p> </p><p>“We do tend to be clingy,” Kili commented. “But it is breakfast time and we guessed you would want some…though It doesn’t compare to your amazing fry up…”</p><p> </p><p>In fact, it was oatmeal porridge which was perfectly acceptable to Bilbo. He made his own tea while Bofur was distracted and settled within sight of the entrance, peering into the steep ravine beyond, seeing the shadows of clouds passing over the light grey rocks.</p><p> </p><p>“I see you managed to get yourself a decent tea,” Dori commented, sitting beside him. The older man had his grey hair precisely coiffured and braided into a style that wouldn’t be out of place in the eighteenth century, his beard braided without a single hair out of place. “I was going to step up if Bofur offered. I’m afraid most of the company wouldn’t know a cup of tea if it bit them on the ass.” He took an exasperated sip from his own mug and Bilbo suddenly smelled a waft of elderflower, lemon and ginger. Dori smiled.</p><p> </p><p>“That smells amazing,” the Librarian blurted out, sipping his own now-inadequate brew. “Do you make your own mixes?” Dori offered his mug and Bilbo took a tiny sip-then moaned at the explosion of taste. “Yavanna, that’s lovely…”</p><p> </p><p>“Sometimes-but I actually get most of my teas from Rivendell…and the Shire,” the officer revealed.</p><p> </p><p>“The Shire?” Bilbo frowned and then his eyes widened. “Bongo Redleaf’s Tea Emporium!” Dori nodded indulgently, sipping his brew again.</p><p> </p><p>“A place of wonder, to be sure,” he commented. “And one day, when we finish chasing our tails and keeping you alive, I would love to visit in person and meet the master at work…”</p><p> </p><p>“If we make it out of here alive, I’ll take you myself,” Bilbo promised. “Bongo is my second cousin, twice removed. I could get you family discount!” Dori frowned and opened his mouth. “And of course, access to his <em>special </em>family brews that he doesn’t share with any outsiders…” The mouth snapped shut again and Dori smiled.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you,” he said. “I would really appreciate such an honour!” Feeling a surge of relief and welcome familiarity, they sat in companionable silence for a few moments, enjoying their drinks before the start of the day.</p><p> </p><p>“Bifur! Bofur! Nori!” Thorin’s voice rang out and Bilbo craned his neck. Dori huffed.</p><p> </p><p>“And back to work,” he sighed and gathered up the mugs and plates as Bilbo ambled back towards their leader. Thorin had already grabbed a flashlight and was pacing confidently along the tunnel that swept back into the mountain-but he had only gone a few yards when he stopped by a squat green box clamped to the rocky wall. Unerringly, he prised the door open and slammed a grey circuit breaker switch down.</p><p> </p><p>Immediately, lights illuminated the tunnel and the little cave they had slept in. Peering past the four men, Bilbo could see that the rocky way vanished back beyond sight, turning to the right but that lights still reflected from around the corner. He frowned.</p><p> </p><p>“How far back do the tunnels go?” he asked curiously.</p><p> </p><p>“Gairurukhsgirin is a cave system that honeycombs most of the mountain,” Thorin admitted. “I’m not aware that anyone has properly mapped its full extent.” Bifur grumbled under his breath.</p><p> </p><p>“And the lights?” Bilbo pressed.</p><p> </p><p>“Solar panels set into the mountain,” Thorin revealed. “There are a lot of them-enough to power a city and charge the storage batteries that release the power during the dark hours.” There was a pause and Bilbo gaped at him.</p><p> </p><p>“Solar panels? Batteries? This isn’t just a hole in the mountains, is it?” he realised. “It’s like something out of science fiction…”</p><p> </p><p>“Or maybe just Ereborean technology being more widely applied,” Bofur commented. “Sustainability is something I think we and the Shire share a passion for…”</p><p> </p><p>“Dori, Dwalin, Gloin-with me!” Thorin called. “Bifur, Nori-you as well. Bofur-can you check the control panels. The rest of you-remain here until we inform you that it is safe to move.” And then he turned and marched away, his chosen group scurrying to his side. The solid shape of Dwalin took station at his side, his leather-clad muscular presence reassuring. Bilbo gave a sigh and sat down beside Ori, who was fiddling with a piece of equipment.</p><p> </p><p>“What are you doing?” the Librarian asked with a sigh. He wasn’t sure what he could do apart from being exceptionally bored. His computer battery would only last a few hours and then he would well and truly be stranded in the middle of nowhere with no access to any of the things that could possibly keep him sane. Ori smiled.</p><p> </p><p>“Just checking the satellite uplink,” he said calmly. Bilbo blinked again. “I can’t do my job and find out what our friend Smaug is up to if I can’t access the internet so I always carry my own tech. Now I just need someone to deploy this…”</p><p> </p><p>“Did someone call for assistance?” Fili and Kili popped up, their matching smiles showing they were bored and keen for something-anything-to do. Rolling his eyes and having a vision of the brothers falling off the mountain, Bilbo was about to open his mouth but Ori happily handed over the tech and explained what was needed. Winking, the pair headed for the entrance to place the uplink in an appropriate place to connect with the satellite. Bilbo watched them go with some trepidation and then stared at Ori.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you insane?’ he asked. “They’ll fall off the mountain or connect with some super secret satellite or blow everything up…”</p><p> </p><p>“Or maybe do a good job,” Balin murmured quietly from behind them. The Librarian snapped round and stared at him. “They know what is required and Thorin has confidence in their climbing and tracking abilities. He’s been training then from children after all, especially since…” Bilbo felt irritation rise in his throat.</p><p> </p><p>“Since what?” he asked sharply. There were moments when he felt completely isolated from the Company, from his crazy group who all acted like family and were fiercely protective of their leader. Ori looked away and Balin pinched the bridge of his nose.</p><p> </p><p>“Not mine to tell, laddie,” he answered apologetically. “Thorin’s past…well, he’s had it hard and some of what he’s been through have left scars. We respect his privacy and wouldn’t discusses affairs with outsiders…” Bristling at the implication, Bilbo drew himself up…and then he recalled what he had heard from Fili and Kili. It seemed there was a sliding scale on what was willing to be shared. He thinned his lips.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay-but if I think his secrets are compromising my safety or my sanity, I will demand answers,” he said fiercely. Balin rolled his eyes and gave a sympathetic smile.</p><p> </p><p>“I wish you every piece of good luck with that,” he murmured. “Thorin is the most stubborn man I have ever met. And one of the most private.” Bilbo harrumphed.</p><p> </p><p>“Clearly you haven’t met me when I’m discussing a late return,” he warned Balin as the old officer cracked a grin.</p><p> </p><p>“Aye…maybe Thorin has met his match,” he smiled and turned back to his papers. Ori looked up and his eyes widened.</p><p> </p><p>“Can you turn your phone to aircraft mode?” he asked. “We need to drop off the grid and it can be tracked. If you need to connect with anyone, do it via your computer and the wifi.” Bilbo frowned. “The satellite uplink connects to a private server that means we cannot be traced.” Blinking, Bilbo sat next to him.</p><p> </p><p>“That sounds like a bad spy movie,” he commented as Ori chuckled.</p><p> </p><p>“We needed a proxy to make sure any investigations we conducted that could be suspected to hover around the line of legality wouldn’t be linked to the Ereborean Police Department,” he admitted. "So Thorin had one set up in his family home. Where no one would ever look."</p><p> </p><p>“And you conduct these rather borderline investigations frequently?” he asked pointedly, Ori smiled shyly.</p><p> </p><p>“More often than you think,” he admitted. “Gloin chases financials and I do the rest, sometimes helped by Nori, and we may need to use methods that would not be smiled upon by the department.”</p><p> </p><p>“I suspect a lot of what you do isn’t smiled upon by the department,” Bilbo muttered. “Sorry, I thought you had to use legal means to arrest them and for evidence obtained to be admissible in court?” The young officer gave a sigh.</p><p> </p><p>“Ereborean Courts take a pragmatic view where high crimes and misdemeanours are involved,” he revealed. “And the people you have unwittingly gotten involved with…well, let’s say they’re at the top of everyone’s Most Wanted list…”</p><p> </p><p>“That makes me feel <em>so</em> much better,” Bilbo sighed as Ori scanned his screen and a smile lit his face.</p><p> </p><p>“And we’re online,” he smiled, tapping in furiously. “And let me know if you want to communicate with family or anyone…” But Bilbo’s face fell.</p><p> </p><p>“No one left to communicate with,” he sighed as he stared towards the entrance, glimpsing sheets of rain hammering down once more. “I think I’m stuck here…”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter Eight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>EIGHT:</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Fili and Kili looked like drowned rats when they returned, though they were still irrepressible and boasting about how they had almost fallen off the mountain. Bilbo, however, wasn’t fooled by theirantics and knew from their tales that they had almost certainly been very well-trained by Thorin and were more capable than their mischievous manner suggested. Ori, however, was pleased with the results and logged on through their private server before offering to get Bilbo online. Reassured that he wasn’t accidentally going to betray their location and relieved when they produced extension cables to provide power, Bilbo was able to log into the Library at Erebor University and access the scans of an ancient and very foxed volume of Quenya Myths and Legends that he had been studying before all this blew up. Smiling happily, he lost himself in reading and translating the words and ignored the others in the little room.</p><p> </p><p>It was some time before the others returned and he only looked up when the smells of meat cooking and the resultant growl of his stomach alerted him that a lot of time had passed. Dwalin, Dori and Bofur all looked sombre and Bilbo wondered what they had encountered that had made them look so weary. But Bofur managed a bright smile and came over to the Librarian with another terrible cup of tea, sitting down beside the Librarian.</p><p> </p><p>“What have you been up to?” he asked in a friendly voice, sipping his own black coffee absently. Bilbo gestured.</p><p> </p><p>“Rereading the story of the Silmarils and the fall of the line of Feanor,” he explained as Bofur frowned. “Elvish mythology,” he added as Bofur’s eyes widened with understanding.</p><p> </p><p>“Beyond a simple copper like me,” he smiled with a wink.</p><p> </p><p>“You look tired,” Bilbo noted, sipping his milk with a possible trace of tea in it. “Were the tunnels in a bad way?”</p><p> </p><p>“Aye…lots of debris but they seem sound,” he admitted. “We needed to check the lighting, the air circulation and locate some habitable areas…but it’s up and running now. Thorin says we’ll move after the meal so we can get settled in before nightfall.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s good news surely,” Bilbo replied with a smile, casting a glance over at Bombur who was carving spit roasted chickens very deftly.</p><p> </p><p>“It means we end up waiting…and I know half the Company are very bad at waiting,” Bofur revealed as he leaned closer to Bilbo. “The lads are terrible pranksters, Bifur becomes stir crazy and Dwalin tends to go crazy working out and honing his skills. And Thorin…”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, we tend to refer to it as ‘Magnificent Brooding’ though of course, we would welcome the assessment of a wordsmith such as yourself,” the officer said playfully with a twinkle in his eyes. Bilbo sniggered.</p><p> </p><p>“You-you’re serious?” he checked as he stole a small glance over at the leader of the Company. Thorin was definitely scowling, his brows pinched and expression troubled. “Okay…’magnificent’ may be completely justified but I’ll reserve my final judgment until I watch him in action…”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m looking forward to it,” Bofur chuckled as his brother called them for their food. Spit-roasted chicken, mash and some boiled peas and broad beans had the Company jostling for their portions and seated wherever they could find a space, wolfing the fare down eagerly, only slowing when the bottom of their bowls were almost visible. Glancing around, Bilbo was again struck by the groupings that existed within the Company. Fili, Kili and Ori tended to huddle together, the youngest and liveliest of the Company, sometimes joined by Bofur. Dori, Oin and Gloin-the older members-also formed a group and chatted amiably. Bofur usually stuck close to his brother and Bifur, who was taciturn and spoke little and Nori usually joined them or the younger grouping. From what the Librarian could gather, the Middle Rison brother had a chequered past and had taken part in some questionable activities that had bolstered his credibility among his underworld contacts but which made Bilbo question how he was ever accepted into the Ereborean Force. Though he was starting to understand that the Ereborean Police Force seemed to have a very pragmatic and goal-orientated view of policing rather than the much more liberal and holistic approach taken in the Shire and Eriador Constabulary.</p><p> </p><p>Chewing slowly, Bilbo found his eyes drifting to the final group, tucked over to one side. Thorin almost exclusively ate with Dwalin and Balin, usually locked in a low Khuzdul conversation that always seemed serious. Dwalin was clearly one his most trusted confidantes and friends and Balin seemed to also be a close friend and have an almost paternal relationship with the Company Leader, making him perhaps the only person who would give advice Thorin would seriously consider. And if he had a plan or scheme for how things were going to go, he certainly wasn’t sharing it with the Company in general-or with Bilbo.</p><p> </p><p>The memory of Balin’s expression as they had headed for Gairurukhsgirin flashed across his memory and the Librarian wondered what they were going to find when they headed deeper into the mountain. Because what cave system had an advanced solar power system and was known to the police in distant Erebor?</p><p> </p><p>“You look thoughtful,” Nori said, coming up behind him and causing him to jump so much he almost dropped his bowl. “Jumpy, too.”</p><p> </p><p>“You would be if you were being stalked, shot at and now off grid with thirteen Ereboreans who seem to have no concept of personal space!” Bilbo spluttered as Nori chuckled, sitting opposite him.</p><p> </p><p>“Fair comment,” he conceded, his eyes inspecting the Librarian with more gravity than Bilbo was sure he liked. “Ori says you accessed your University account. Did you touch your email box?”</p><p> </p><p>“No-he was clear I shouldn’t,” Bilbo admitted. “Look, I hated the all being ‘chased and shot at and destroying a rather nice al fresco dining area’ debacle so I’m not about to do anything that may cause a repeat. You have nothing to fear with that.” Nori pressed his lips together and nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“My contacts seemed surprised that Smaug was so fixated on a nobody,” he said in a low voice. “Because the rumours were that he was planning an expansion westwards and if he was planning an alliance, it would be with the gangs working in Eriador rather than an ex-pat Shireling with no conceivable utility in advancing his grip on the Eriador Underworld.”</p><p> </p><p>“First up-way to make me feel good,” Bilbo snarked back. “But second-that is the only interpretation that makes any sense. He’s certainly not in love with me and nothing he has done says affection. It’s all power and control and why would you go to this trouble for no gain?” Nori gave a smile that looked rather like a wolf considering his next meal.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re right,” he said. “Power and control. Plots within plots. And there is an ulterior motive-because there is always an ulterior motive. Smaug is ruthless and vicious. And no one knows that more than Thorin.”</p><p> </p><p>Bilbo stole another look across at the leader. Dwalin had vanished and Balin was carefully thumbing through an old paperback copy of Dwarrow Poetry, leaving Thorin staring into space. <em>Magnificent Brooding</em> didn’t seem so much of a stretch as a term after all.</p><p> </p><p>“Have you actually scored any wins against Smaug?” Bilbo asked him suddenly as Nori cracked a smile.</p><p> </p><p>“We wouldn’t be in business if we hadn’t,” he assured Bilbo then leaned forward conspiratorially. “Look, you’ve seen us in action. We’re not subtle or discreet. We cause collateral damage. People accuse us of having an attitude…”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s a surprise,” Bilbo snarked. “An attitude? You lot?” Nori chuckled.</p><p> </p><p>“Thorin will go to bat for any one of us,” he nodded. “Higher-ups hate us. But we’ve disrupted his operations, brought in lieutenants, recovered stolen goods and trafficked people, seized drugs and guns and explosives…but we haven’t dealt him a truly crippling blow. He’d gone quiet for a couple of months and that always suggests he is planning.” Bilbo sighed and speared his last slice of meat.</p><p> </p><p>“How long are we likely to stay here?’ he asked as Nori shrugged.</p><p> </p><p>“Ask Thorin,” he said and rose. “I can ask Ori if he can find a way to contact any friends or relatives, if you want.” Bilbo nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“That would be nice,” he confessed and then followedhim to return his bowl. But as soon as they had all gathered, Thorin was ordering them to pick up their possessions and move deeper into the mountain. Feeling a thrill of trepidation, Bilbo complied and followed the Company down the grey stone tunnel that had been smoothed and was lit by the LED lamps that flickered just enough to make him nervous. The tunnel opened into an anteroom that had metal tables and a few chairs as well as multiple power outlets. Beyond, there was another tunnel that hit an intersection with chambers to the right that Thorin assigned as bedrooms, a kitchen area further along and then it opened into a huge cavern. Bilbo looked down and felt the ground tilt, prompting Bombur to grab his shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>“We don’t want you falling,” he said in his surprisingly gentle voice. “For the record, I’m not so fond of big drops myself.” And his round face moved into a grin, plump cheeks and twinkling eyes reassuring. Bilbo nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“I may stay away from this bit,” he admitted as Dwalin walked over.</p><p> </p><p>“You alright?” he asked brusquely and Bilbo nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“I think…I’m more suited to ground level endeavours,” he confessed. “In fact, I may have to get someone to reshelve any volumes requiring a step-ladder after this experience…” Raising an eyebrow, the leather-clad officer grunted.</p><p> </p><p>“I suspect that won’t hinder your work,” he commented and turned away, leaving Bilbo trudging after him. He was almost bowled over by Fili and Kili.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re rooming with us and Ori,” Kili told him enthusiastically, a smile lighting his face. “Team Not-Old-Fogeys all under one roof!” Fili draped an arm over his shoulders and leaned close.</p><p> </p><p>“You okay?’ he whispered as Bilbo nodded silently.</p><p> </p><p>“Not great with heights,” he mumbled, gesturing to the huge cavern. Kili whistled.</p><p> </p><p>“This is impressive,” he commented and then spun to help guide Bilbo to the chamber they had been assigned. There were four camp beds-a definite step up from sleeping on the solid rocky ground- with lights and a lockable door. There was also a power socket that Bilbo claimed and began to unpack.</p><p> </p><p>“There is a room with washing facilities-Mahal only knows how it got here,” Fili explained. “And even a rather anaemic looking shower.”</p><p> </p><p>“Latrines, however, are the other end of the tunnel,” Kili said glumly and Bilbo burst out laughing.</p><p> </p><p>“He didn’t!” he gulped.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes-Thorin has made them our personal responsibility!” Fili confirmed with a grimace. “Though thankfully Dwalin will be taking us for combat practice as well so we won’t have to act like bathroom attendants…” Bilbo burst out laughing again at that mental image and both men adopted almost identical scowls.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not funny,” Fili grumbled.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes it is,” Bilbo gasped.</p><p> </p><p>“And we thought you were our friend…” Kili added in a hurt voice.</p><p> </p><p>“I am…but I was also kidnapped by you and used as bait to protect the people I was supposed to be being protected by against the people trying to kill me!” he pointed out. There was a pause and the pair shared a look then started laughing.</p><p> </p><p>“When you put it like that…” Fili conceded. “We really are sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know,” Bilbo reassured them, slinging his arm across their shoulders. “Now what are we supposed to be doing?”</p><p> </p><p>“Ki and I are being assigned to help set up the surveillance platform for the guard-up above the entrance so we can monitor the approaches but I think Ori wants you in the chamber to do something to your phone?” Fili explained and Bilbo gave a relieved sigh. He fished out his phone and peered at it, then stuffed it in the pocket of his coat and headed back along the warren, the brothers keeping him company and offering to take him up safely to enjoy the view. Unconsciously, Bilbo shivered.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll see you later,” he murmured and then smiled at Ori, who took the phone when proffered. Sliding into the seat next to him, Bilbo watched as he hooked the phone through the USB port and fiddled with it, frowning until he was satisfied.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve temporarily disabled the aerial function so it will only call via Wifi-meaning we control the location via the server. I’ve also disabled all location services on the phone for the moment so those can’t be used either,” he explained and then handed the phone back. “You can check for messages, if you want.”</p><p> </p><p>Bilbo eyed the phone as if it was a ticking bomb. It hadn’t really served him terribly well in terms of positive communications since he met Smaug but he reluctantly opened the phone function and dialled his voicemail, switching to speaker so that Ori and Balin-who was sitting at the next table-could hear.</p><p> </p><p>The first couple of messages were from Primula and Drogo, the messages they had referred to on that final phone call, just simple messages informing him of the package that had been their doom and reminding him that he was always welcome to come over for a visit and hoping it would be soon because they missed him. His eyes prickled with tears and he swallowed as the message ended. Taking a deep breath, he skipped to the next message.</p><p> </p><p>An unfamiliar, cultured voiced spoke even, his enunciation perfect.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Bilbo Baggins. My name is Elrond Peredhel. I am the Master of Imladris and I have an urgent message for you that must be delivered in person.I have been contacted by an old friend who wishes to speak to you as well. I invite you to come to Imladris at your earliest convenience and this invitation is open ended. Please make contact soon.</em>”</p><p> </p><p>Bilbo looked up at Ori. Balin’s eyes were thoughtful.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve never even contacted Imladris though I am aware they have the best collection of Sindarin and Quenyan Volumes in Arda…” Bilbo murmured.</p><p> </p><p>“Laddie, an invitation from Elrond of Imladris is rarer than Mithril,” Balin told him. “That one keeps his domain tight and is very picky who he invites for tea.” He managed a thin smile. “But I think we really need to consider it. It sounds important.” Bilbo nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll tell Thorin…” he sighed.</p><p> </p><p>“Later,” Balin soothed him. “He’s still sorting things out here…” Settling back in his seat, he clicked onto the next message. And then he froze, for the voice was hideously familiar.</p><p> </p><p>Smaug.</p><p> </p><p><em>“Bilbo, Bilbo, Bilbo,”</em> the gangster said in a disappointed and cold tone. “<em>I had really expected better of you. Involving the police really was the stupidest move you could have made. You should have just come back to me like I demanded. After all, you chose me and that choice is irrevocable. I had to make you understand that all actions have consequences. I am certain that you have more relatives who can help persuade you to do what I require and come back to me, my little Shireling.</em>”</p><p> </p><p>Bilbo had gone grey, the confirmation of the bomber’s identity making him feel as if the room was spinning.</p><p> </p><p><em>“Of course, it will be much easier now I am establishing business contacts in the Shire and environs. So much easier to visit your childhood home and walk through your lovely town…</em>”</p><p> </p><p>“Except you blew my childhood home to bits,” Bilbo murmured bitterly.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>I presume you’re with Thorin and his little Company of misfits and lost causes,” </em>Smaug continued, his tone turning sneering.<em> “I wouldn’t place any faith in him. I am afraid Thorin is a fraud, a man who is a failure in all he does. A man who leads a group that will be disbanded after this latest failure, a man who is recklessly consumed by personal vendetta and the need for vengeance. Ask him where his family is. Ask him how well he protected his brother and sister. Ask him how close he’s got to even laying a finger on me. Ask him to show you his scars. And then spit in his face for the loser he is. He will fail you, Bilbo and I will be there to watch. Maybe I’ll make you the one to kill him in the end…because it will be the kindest thing to do. And after that…you are mine. Little Hobbit, little bunny…little worm. I will find you. I know everything. Including where you are.</em>”</p><p> </p><p>There was a click as the call ended.</p><p> </p><p>‘No more messages,” the phone said.</p><p> </p><p>Bilbo was shaking, staring at the phone in shock and scrambling back.</p><p> </p><p>“Why?” he murmured. “What did he mean?”</p><p> </p><p>“Laddie-that was Smaug playing you,” Balin told him urgently as Oin ambled in and set up his computer. “He doesn’t know where you are.”</p><p> </p><p>“What does he know about Thorin?” Bilbo asked.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s Thorin’s story,” Balin insisted as Bilbo turned and stormed deeper into the mountain. He turned left, away from the bed chambers and towards the distant echo of voices. He was breathing heavily and really needed to speak to the leader of the Company-but he had to pause and leaned on a rail, overlooking a drop down into the depths. And then he stiffened.</p><p> </p><p>Below then, strewn on the rocks, were the partially skeltonised and half mummified remains of humans. Blank and empty eye sockets stared up and misarticulated limbs were scattered across the uneven grey rocks, defects in the bodies maybe representing wounds or the after-effects of corruption. Bilbo felt his chest seize up as his eyes widened. There were thirty…maybe forty…bodies there, all seeming to wear similar almost-uniform greyish marked clothes.</p><p> </p><p>He opened his mouth and screamed. The absolute horror of the sight surged through him, his breath coming in frantic pants as he backed away from the rail and collided with a solid, warm body. Thorin spun him to face him, his hands tight on his shoulders.</p><p> </p><p>“BILBO! What’s wrong!” he asked urgently as the Librarian stared wildly at him.</p><p> </p><p>“Bodies…” he gasped. “Very dead bodies…”</p><p> </p><p>“I said we should have dumped them further into the cave system,” Dwalin grumbled walking forward. Gloin shook his head, glaring at the two men.</p><p> </p><p>“They barely held up when we got them this far,” he reminded the others. Growling, Thorin steered Bilbo away and back towards the main chamber.</p><p> </p><p>“Who…who were they?” Bilbo asked, his teeth chattering in shock. Thorin sighed.</p><p> </p><p>“The original inhabitants of the cave system,” he revealed.</p><p> </p><p>“But they’re all dead,” Bilbo protested as they re-entered the chamber where Balin, Oin and Ori were tapping away on their laptops. Thorin steered him to an unoccupied table and stared at Ori.</p><p> </p><p>“Can we have a cup of tea. Mr Baggins is shaken,” he said sternly and watched the younger man scurry off. Then he sat opposite the Librarian.</p><p> </p><p>“You knew,” Bilbo breathed, his tone accusing. “You knew there were dead people here. that was why Balin looked so disapproving…” Thorin rolled his eyes and then shook his head.</p><p> </p><p>“Balin believes I am reckless and that this place is too isolated from back-up,” he conceded.</p><p> </p><p>“But you knew there were all the dead bodies here-and you never thought to tell me?” Bilbo asked, a slightly hysterical edge to his voice.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes and no,” Thorin answered reasonably. “This was the best option and the Company and I moved the bodies before we let you in here. You were never meant to know…”</p><p> </p><p>“I feel so included,” Bilbo snarked automatically, feeling his hands tremble. Visions of poor Myrtle flashed across his memory once more.</p><p> </p><p>“It was done for your own safety,” Thorin snapped in an exasperated voice. “You are not capable of dealing with such things and I felt it was best to…”</p><p> </p><p>“You know, Smaug said you were reckless and…” Bilbo began as Thorin’s face twisted into a furious scowl at the accusation.</p><p> </p><p>“Smaug? When did you make contact with him?” he snapped. Blinking, Bilbo found that facing the burning sapphire eyes broke through his shock and his own righteous anger rose up,</p><p> </p><p>“He left me a voicemail that Ori helped me access!” he retorted. “He admitted that he sent the bomb. He confirmed he’s moving towards the Shire as well as his current territories. And he said you had no chance of bringing him in.” Thorin glared at him. “He also said you don’t have great track record. That you lost your own family to him.” Sitting up straight, Thorin stared at him, his face suddenly blank. “What happened, Thorin?”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s personal,” he managed through gritted teeth, his voice dark with anger.</p><p> </p><p>“I need to know because my life is at stake now!” Bilbo argued. Thorin flung himself to his feet.</p><p> </p><p>“You do not need to know this!” he shouted. “It is not relevant! Concentrate on keeping your head down and let me worry about your protection!” And then he stormed away.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter Nine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>NINE:</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Silence hung over the chamber in the wake of Thorin’s words as Bilbo stared, breathing hard. The only sounds were the receded steps of their leader and the slow tread of Balin as he approached the stunned Bilbo.</p><p> </p><p>“So you all know what happened?” Bilbo asked. There was a pause and Balin laid an avuncular hand on the Librarian’s shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>“Aye-we all do, laddie-but the story is Thorin’s to tell and his alone,” he said sadly as Ori-who was carrying a steaming mug of tea-and Bifur-who had been drawn by the shouting-met his eyes and retreated down the tunnel once more. Bilbo sighed and slumped down, his eyes trailing in the direction that Thorin had retreated. But there was something in Balin’s tone that had him remaining where he was, feeling unwilling to intrude on the leader. There had been hints, the way the Company were so loyal to him, the untold story behind Fili and Kili’s parents, the length of time that he had been pursuing Smaug…that kind of dedication could only be personal. But what right did Bilbo have to demand the man bare his soul to him, to reveal things that were probably intensely personal and almost certainly painful? It wasn’t as if he was anything more than a civilian, a nobody dragged into the mess and more and more confused as to why.</p><p> </p><p>Finally, he shook his head and rose, glancing at the others who were absorbed in their own tasks. Ori had returned with a herbal tea and Balin appeared to be dozing.</p><p> </p><p>“I need some fresh air,” he said. Oin glanced up.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t go far,” he said as Bilbo ambled along the passageway to the entrance. The air grew colder as he walked along, grateful he had thought to grab his coat on the way. The lamps on the walls were still flickering and hesitant but cast enough light to safely find his way until the entrance yawned before him. Sighing, he emerged and glanced along the flat ledge, the path winding off in both directions down into the misty depths, the reminder of the yawning drop setting his stomach fluttering. Suddenly, his legs felt like jelly and he grateful stumbled to a fallen bounder, perching on the flattened upper surface that formed a natural bench and resting his back against the towering wall of rock. The air was cold, the only sounds the gentle lull of the breeze and the trickle of water making its way down from the soaringly distant peak. But there were no birds or mammalian sounds and Bilbo felt strangely lonely sitting here on the precipitous ledge. But unlike the tunnels or the hewn caves of Gairurukhsgirin-which his imperfect knowledge of the Ereborean language of Khuzdul told him meant something like ‘Goblin Town’-he didn’t feel hemmed in or oppressed and just feeling the weak sun on his skin made him feel more human.</p><p> </p><p>“I was getting worried.”</p><p> </p><p>He almost jumped off his perch at Thorin’s baritone, said almost beside him. He must have been very far away for the man to sneak up on him-or Thorin could move very stealthily if he wished, which seemed more likely.</p><p> </p><p>“I told Oin,” he replied defensively, half-turning to stare at the man. Thorin shrugged.</p><p> </p><p>“No one seemed to know where you were,” he admitted. “Or they weren’t willing to admit it to me. Maybe they think we should talk. They presumed I would guess where you would be.”</p><p> </p><p>“Am I that predictable?” Bilbo asked, mildly annoyed but Thorin shook his head.</p><p> </p><p>“You are a child of the Shire, of the kindly West and you mentioned you spent much of your childhood running free in the woods and fields of your home,” he said. “You prefer the outdoors, the feel of the wind and sun to the security of stone. And the haven we arrived at wasn’t exactly…easy on the nerves for someone who is not used to death and its aftermath. Where else would you be?”</p><p> </p><p>“What happened?” Bilbo asked quietly, blinking to push back the images. Thorin leaned back against the rock just beside him, his arms crossed over his chest and feet planted comfortably.</p><p> </p><p>“The Gundabads,” he explained slowly. “The previous inhabitants-we referred to them as Ghairurakhas or Goblins-were a rival gang. They were just low level miscreants, dealing in weed of various types and some mushrooms-nothing to challenge the highly addictive and damaging Orc Blood filth that the Gundabads deal in. But about ten years ago they decided that the Ghairuiakhas were a threat and they sought them out and slaughtered them all. We heard from one escapee, one witness who called us. He promised to testify in exchange for protection and a new identity. He was terrified, young…I guess he had only just got into the gang. We rushed to meet him-but all we found was his head. The Gundabads had gotten to him first, leaving his head…without a tongue…at the payphone he called us from. We had then arriving on CCTV but no vids of the act, just them driving away with a headless body lashed to the roof.”</p><p> </p><p>“And no one came to clear up?” Bilbo’s voice was shaking.</p><p> </p><p>“I came up,” Thorin said slowly, his voice dark. “I walked into the charnel house, the air still thick with the scents of blood and fear and death and I remembered. But there wasn’t the will or funds to scour a remote gang base in the mountains-especially one that technically wasn’t even in ourjurisdiction. So we left it as a tomb…until now. Because I needed somewhere that no one would imagine anyone would come back to.”</p><p> </p><p>“You knew it would be like this and you still brought us here?” His voice was now edged with anger but there was a species of despair in there as well, the realisation that the situation just kept getting darker and darker and by implication, his chances of survival grew slimmer and slimmer. “They wiped out an entire gang and left them here to rot-and you brought us here? The <em>same</em> people who chased us in Bree?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not exactly flush with options!” Thorin retaliated, his voice hard and verging on anger. “I am certain that there is a leak in the department and it feels like we’re being played. It’s what happened…” He bit the rest of the sentence back, his eyes flashing with anger.</p><p> </p><p>“Like what?” Bilbo demanded, his voice rising. “What happened, Thorin? I think now I’m caught somewhere in the middle of this mess, I deserve to know exactly what is going on?” He got to his feet. “This personal, isn’t it? You have history with these people-a quarter of a century of it…”</p><p> </p><p>Thorin glared but there was pain behind the expression and for a moment, the two men matched wills before-surprisingly-Thorin lowered his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“The others know,” he said quietly. “But not all.”</p><p> </p><p>“Then tell me what I need to know?” Bilbo pleaded. Running a hand over his face, Thorin sagged-then slowly moved to sit on the stone, with Bilbo sliding in to sit beside him. Head canting forward with his raven hair falling across his face, he took a deep breath.</p><p> </p><p>“My grandfather was Thror Durin, the Crime Commissioner of Erebor and Rhovannon,” he revealed slowly, his voice gruff with old pain. “My family name is Durin.” Bilbo stiffened, recognising the name and associations, though he said nothing. “We were directly descended from the Kings of Erebor and when the Monarchy was abolished, our family did as we always had done: we served our people. Only now it wasn’t as the King but as Mayors, Chief Ministers, Crime Commissioners-in whatever capacity we could. Thror was a man who had utmost faith in his capabilities, a man who was cold and hard and single-minded. He accrued power from his successes and he was absolutely ruthless in his pursuit of criminals, demanding the harshest of penalties for any offender. He cleared the gangs, wiped out the district crime-lords and any checks and balances in the underworld. He essentially cleared away all competition-and that was when Smaug and the Firewyrm Syndicate moved in from the North. At first, there were rumours, but they swept in from the northern districts, like a hurricane, taking over the city. And then he reached out and recruited the Gundabads as his muscle. Mahal only knows what he offered them but they came and they stuck-and then they brought hell down on the city.”</p><p> </p><p>“I guess your Grandfather didn’t like that?” Bilbo guessed. Thorin glanced up and his blue eyes were shamed.</p><p> </p><p>“It drove him mad,” he murmured. “He was already on the brink, already brittle from the stress and deaths of my grandmother and mother in a car accident and the added strain…” He sighed. “He ordered hits, reprisals, crazy insane shit that cost lives of police officers without any hesitation. Good officers lost on poorly thought-out missions. And worse, Smaug seemed to be playing him, baiting him and manoeuvring him from pillar to post. Until he had had enough and he had them launch a direct attack on our compound.”</p><p> </p><p>“Your family home?”</p><p> </p><p>“Erebor Mansion, the ancestral home of the Durins,” Thorin confirmed. “My Grandfather, my Father, my sister, brother and I lived there, along with staff and a battalion of guards. My father trusted in his men. That was his biggest mistake. Because Smaug had deep pockets and my Grandfather’s erratic behaviour made them more…susceptible to his advances. So when the attack came, half of the men…vanished into the night. And just like that, they were in the compound, with half the men we needed and just the five of us. My Grandfather and Father Thrain-who acted as his second-in-command and never ever challenged an order, no matter how deranged-charged into the fray but I went to my younger siblings. No matter what happened, they were innocent and had to be protected.”</p><p> </p><p>“They got out?” Bilbo asked urgently and slowly, Thorin nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“I was twenty, Frerin eighteen and Dis seventeen but we were trained to defend ourselves…and to fight, if necessary. We all lived at home as was the custom of our House but there was a secret escape route we shared with no one outside the family-not even our cousins or the guards. I made sure they were in the tunnels, were safely away and then I sealed the door behind them, made sure the way was concealed and blocked so no one would find it…and then I went back. I had already joined the force because it was my destiny, mapped out before I was born and I had almost finished my training when the attack came. No matter my age or inexperience, I knew I had to fight. I had been trained from childhood for the duty, the responsibility and I thought I was ready, thought I could handle it. So I charged up and into the battle-and then I faced him.”</p><p> </p><p>“Who?”</p><p> </p><p>“Azog. The Defiler, leader of the Gundabads. A huge, amoral bastard. An albino with white skin, grey eyes and grey tattoos all over his body. He laughed as he slaughtered the guards and roared as we fought back, cutting down his men. But the weight of numbers told and though we fought bravely, he had sworn he would bring us down, that he would end Thror’s line. He started with my Grandfather, Thror. His men took him and then hacked his head off with a machete, holding it up like a sick trophy, sneering that it was all he deserved. My father collapsed, mumbling and howling. Azog slashed him across the face, blinding him-and then he stabbed him through the heart.”</p><p> </p><p>Bilbo was staring now, listening to a story that was well-practiced but emotionless, the slight edge showing Thorin was still editing what he said. But the Librarian could see it in his eyes: the broken look that he had caught the faintest flash of previously.</p><p> </p><p>“He killed your father and grandfather? You saw?” he murmured.</p><p> </p><p>“I fought. I knew I was going to die but I was determined to take some of them to Mandos’ Halls with me. I did everything I possibly could, I fought until seven of them had to bear me down. And still I struggled until they beat me all but unconscious and dragged me before Azog. And then I looked up into those blank, soulless eyes and I saw his lips turn up in the most evil smile. He leaned close and asked where my siblings were-and I knew then that he was serious. He wanted us all, not just those involved in the business. He wanted my little brother and my baby sister, both of them innocent. I knew where they were and I knew whence they headed-but I would die before I betrayed them to him. He decided to test that, test it with fire and steel and pain. He decided to see how long he could take to break me-and I knew every moment bought them another yard, another chance to get away. And in the end, after all his efforts, he was screaming in frustration because all he could do was stab me and them leave me to bleed out amid the inferno of my home. He left me for dead…but I wasn’t ready to die. I managed to drag myself out of the house-because I spent my entire life there and knew every short cut and hidden passage. I hauled myself out before the house collapsed, stuffed my hand in my wound and waited…because I knew help would come. And it did. Balin and Dwalin came-my cousins, my friends. They found me in time, took me to a doctor who we could trust, had me patched up in the name of Oakenshield because the name Durin had to die. I lived.”</p><p> </p><p>Unconsciously, Bilbo rested a hand on Thorin’s, feeling the tension in the fist but knowing, at this moment, that the man needed something to remind him that he was human, that he was alive and not alone. Because his voice had lowered and Bilbo knew that underneath that practiced brooding facade, Thorin was broken. He hid it well but the injuries and deaths he had suffered had shattered something inside him and only now, away from the Company where he had to appear strong, could he reveal what was under the gruff exterior and practiced mask.</p><p> </p><p>“But your family?” Bilbo murmured Thorin closed his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“I continued in the police department when I recovered from my injuries. It was announced that Thorin Durin had died in the fire with Thror and Thrain but Thorin Oakenshield remained in the Force, learning, planning. I swore I would bring Azog and Smaug down. So when they set up the Company, my name was first on the list of volunteers. I was young but they knew I wouldn’t be denied. Balin and Dwalin joined as well and Balin was the original leader-but he deferred to me in operational matters because I was the most driven of all the members of the Company. I served my apprenticeship, gaining experience, knowledge and respect. I brought everything to the Hunt-because I had more to lose than anything. I still had family-and Azog knew that, knew there were two more Durins out there that he had to hunt down and destroy to fulfil his vow. Yet Frerin wanted his own life, a life away from the family business while Dis had fallen in love with a young man-ironically a reporter-and they married when she was eighteen. She fell pregnant immediately and had Fili before they had been married a year. Kili followed a couple of years later and they seemed to be shielded by her marriage and change of name.</p><p> </p><p>Frerin wasn’t so lucky. He refused to change his name or take precautions as we-as I-desperately begged him to. He clung stubbornly to the Durin heritage, using it to his advantage in business dealings that could be done much more safely far from Erebor.But he never believed me-because he hadn’t seen. And I…I never shared my wounds with him. He never saw what they did to our family, to his kinsmen. Maybe that was a mercy…but I will always blame my damned pride for shielding him from what happened to me. So he scorned at my warnings-because he was nothing to do with law enforcement. He thought he was safe. But he wasn’t. He was gunned down on the street four years after my father and grandfather were murdered.”</p><p> </p><p>“I am sorry,” Bilbo exclaimed, his grip on Thorin’s hand tightening. But the officer could only manage a pained grimace and a nod. Then he sighed and hated himself for the next question, though he now began to suspect the answer. “What happened ten years ago?”</p><p> </p><p>There was silence and Thorin’s head dropped almost to his chest. For the longest moment, Bilbo believed that he wouldn’t answer…but finally, he took a shuddering breath.</p><p> </p><p>“Dis-and Vili, her husband,” he said, the words a broken whisper. Inhaling sharply, Bilbo turned to face the man.</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t have to…” he murmured but Thorin looked up then, his eyes impossibly blue and shimmering with the hint of tears.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, I do,” he breathed. “You are right-I owe you the answers. You deserve to know.” Silently, Bilbo nodded, understanding that in telling the tale, he was reliving the pain of loss, over and over.</p><p> </p><p>“Smaug must have known-or maybe he found out later. Vili was staunch in his defence of the police and reporting on the worst of crimes without fear.” He managed a crooked half-smile. “He defied them in his own ways, alerting the people of the dangers they faced. He cared about Erebor as much, in his way, as I do. But Smaug finally realised who his wife was-and who her sons were. So he sent Azog and Bolg, his second-in-command and son, to deal with them. They planted a lead, laid a trail to isolate Vili from protection. He was gunned down in the street. Dis was not so lucky: she was collecting her sons from school when the Gundabads came for them. She was a daughter fo Durin and led them in a fine chase, calling for help as she drove. The boys huddled in the back as she tried to reach us. The Company came for her, blasting through her attackers as they raked the car with machine gun fire. Dis was hit three times in the chest though, thank Mahal, the boys were unharmed. We drove them away and I ran to her side. She…she was beyond help, begging me to look after her boys, to protect her boys…so I did. And there before her eyes of her children, she died. She died because I couldn’t get to her in time, because I didn’t have the intelligence of the traps Smaug set for her. Because I didn’t know how much of a monster he was. Now they are all I have left of her…of my family.” He closed his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>Bilbo didn’t know why he did it. Thorin had been professional and remote, never that approachable…yet he had deliberately exposed his past to his charge because he felt he owed Bilbo the painful tale. <em>Because Bilbo had asked.</em> And he was hurting so much at revealing the loss. And for this very small moment, his guard was down and he was exposed and raw and in pain…all things Bilbo could understand far better than most. So he wrapped his arms around Thorin Oakenshield and felt the man lean against him, his breaths ragged (though Bilbo would never admit that, under pain of torture) and offered him silent comfort. And it felt like a win when Thorin’s strong arms wrapped around Bilbo in return, accepting the gesture for what it was: a kindness offered by a fellow human who had suffered more loss than he deserved at the hands of the same monster.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you,” Bilbo whispered. “I don’t know what I can do to help but I will. I promise.”</p><p> </p><p>Thorin nodded against his chest, stiffening and his body hardening in Bilbo’s grasp. Recognising the signals, Bilbo released, him, mourning the loss of his warmth and the feel of his body against Bilbo’s.</p><p> </p><p><em>Closest I’ll ever get to going out with him, </em>Bilbo thought privately and ashamedly as Thorin swiped his face and nodded, rising to his feet.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t stay out too long,” he murmured and turned back to the caves. “And thank you, Bilbo. I won’t let Smaug or the Gundabads get their hands on you. I won’t let him hurt anyone else. Upon that, I pledge my life.” And then he was gone, his shoulders back and once more the leader of the Company.</p><p> </p><p>Watching him go with shaking knees, his breath shuddering through his throat, Bilbo slumped to sit back on the stone, in the spot, seconds before, that Thorin had occupied. His entire body was trembling because his brain had caught up with the situation and only now was reality trickling through his comprehension.</p><p> </p><p>Smaug was a ruthless murderer. A man who nursed grudges, exterminated enemies like vermin and played games as he manoeuvred his pieces to execute his next kill.</p><p> </p><p>Azog, Bolg and the Gundabads were vicious warriors in the war Smaug was waging, vindictive and dedicated to exterminating the line of Durin. The description of Azog had made Bilbo’s skin crawl and Thorin’s account of Dis’s death had broken Bilbo’s heart. The pain in his voice at that moment, the account of her dying in his arms, before the eyes of her sons had shattered him, making him wonder what hope he truly had? He was nothing compared to Thorin’s sister and yet Smaug was pursuing him. Yavanna-they had wiped out three cars’ worth of Gundabads in Bree and that could only make things worse. And Smaug had sent a bomb to Prim and Drogo for the only aim of murdering them to punish Bilbo. And for what? One date, one <em>lousy</em> date that had been average if you were being generous with no chemistry, mutual attraction or even honesty on Smaug’s part. No, it really didn’t make sense.</p><p> </p><p>But Primula, Drogo and little Frodo. None of them deserved it, in the faraway Shire, that bastion of calm and decency and warmth, away from the brutality and danger in Rhovannon. But they had been murdered by a man who didn’t know them and cared less for them, save as faceless pieces on a chess game he was playing. But what purpose did it serve? It wouldn’t make Bilbo come back, it wouldn’t gain him anything, save hurting Bilbo…and it wasn’t as if Bilbo was anything to him. It made no sense on any level.</p><p> </p><p>His throat thickened and he felt his eyes burn. Suddenly it was all too much and he bent forward, clutching at his middle as he felt sobs wrack him. Tears streaked his cheeks and his vision blurred as he glanced up, seeing the clouds thin and narrow shards of pale golden sunshine wash over the pale iron grey stones of the mountains. The image blurred as another sob choked through him. He wept for Prim and Drogo, his cousins, his only family who had loved and supported him when he lost his parents and his family all but cut him off. He wept for Frodo, bright and brave and inquisitive and loving, who would never get to fulfil all that promise and go on the adventures he had told Bilbo about. He wept for himself, for losing his family and his life for nothing more than swiping the wrong way on that thrice-accursed dating app and inadvertently going on a date with a lying sack of shit who turned out to be a psychopathic gangster.</p><p> </p><p>But he also wept for Fili and Kili, two innocents in a war that predated their births, whose father was executed and mother died protecting them, losing their parents too young and for <em>nothing,</em> save an evil man’s insane vendetta. Kids who grew into men whose only motivation was to make their uncle proud and try to take down the men who had exterminated their family. But most of all, he found himself weeping for Thorin. Thorin, who under his gruff mask and intimidating scowl, was a decent, brave, honourable man who had seen too many deaths and suffered too many defeats. Thorin who had lost his family and felt he was so alone when he had thirteen men-the Company and Bilbo-who were on his side. Thorin who had shared his pain with Bilbo because Bilbo had asked and had accepted his comfort without embarrassment. Thorin who had sworn to protect Bilbo on his life-which was touching and scary and made something flutter in Bilbo’s chest. Thorin who Bilbo unwillingly fancied which was awkward and hopeless and pathetic…but which was far better than never having met Thorin.</p><p> </p><p>Finally, exhausted, he sat back, palming his cheeks dry and staring at the play of sunlight on the grey rocks. The breeze was growing cold and the sunlight was more golden and orange, warning of the impending sunset. But somehow, for a few moments, Bilbo felt numb and at peace and despite being on the run with a crazy group of police officers who couldn’t trust their own HQ because too many coincidences had allowed the enemy to get close, he felt safe. So he rose, dusted himself down and walked back into the mountain to join his protectors.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter Ten</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>TEN:</b>
</p><p> </p><p>The common space was bustling, the Company having miraculously decided to coalesce in the aftermath of Thorin and Bilbo’s spat. Or maybe Bilbo had just taken a lot longer on his excursion outside. Acknowledging that the last was probably the most possible, Bilbo paused and glanced across the rather crowded room.</p><p> </p><p>Dwalin, Balin and Bifur were having a very animated discussion in Khuzdul over a map. Part of Bilbo wanted to sidle up and peek at what they were looking at but the fact that Dwalin was scowling as if he was about to axe the table into splinters dissuaded him somewhat. Over on another table, Fili, Kili and Bofur were having a rather raucous game of Ludo which seemed to consist solely of cheating and shouting while the third table was occupied by Ori, Nori, Gloin and Oin, all of whom seemed hard at work on their laptops with AirPods in to block out the noise of the others. Casting around, the only table where there seemed to be room was occupied by Thorin, who was staring at a large mug of black coffee with what could only be described as a very majestic scowl.</p><p> </p><p>Before he could approach, Dori accosted him with a steaming mug.</p><p> </p><p>“I hope you don’t mind but I thought after I heard of your upset that you may want a nice cup of tea,” he said in a discreet tone, his back carefully to the table where Bofur was arguing that a six was higher than a three with Kili. Bilbo could tell that the younger officer was doing it to wind Bofur up while Fili was sneaking his piece on an extra two places. Politely, the Librarian sniffed and his eyes widened.</p><p> </p><p>“Camomile and ginger?” he asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Good for relaxing-and you really need to relax, Master Baggins,” Dori told him with a conspiratorial smile. Then he nodded and headed out towards the exit to take up guard while Bilbo walked carefully towards Thorin’s table. He paused until the Company leader looked up.</p><p> </p><p>“Mind it I…?” he asked and Thorin shrugged and gestured him to take a seat. To Bilbo’s eye, he still looked down and the Librarian studiously avoided rerunning their conversation in his mind. But he did feel bad about what he was going to do. He sipped his tea (which was wonderful) before clearing his throat.</p><p> </p><p>“Smaug left a message on my phone,” he said without preamble as Thorin looked up and grimaced, then schooled his face again. Fishing his phone out, Bilbo thumbed through the messages and then clicked it on to play, switching to speaker and handing his phone to Thorin. Quietly, he listened to the words, his eyes hardening with anger and definite hatred at the tone but remaining still. When the message ended, he handed the phone back.</p><p> </p><p>“I see why you were upset,” he said and sipped his coffee. “You understand now what he was referring to.” Bilbo nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry,” he said in a rush. “I didn’t know and I shouldn’t have…” Thorin gave a grim chuckle.</p><p> </p><p>“Bilbo-you have experienced in the last couple of weeks the kind of traumas that officers accrue over years and have proper psychological support to deal with,” he told him without rancour. “We are used to this life and we have family support…” He gestured. “Every member of the Company has at least one member of close kin here. And most are all part of the extended family.” He half-turned. “Balin and Dwalin are my cousins-as I may have mentioned. Gloin and Oin are also more distant kin. The Rison brothers and the Ur brothers are distantly related as well-about four generations back but they did know each other before joining. You are the only person without significant support within the group.”</p><p> </p><p>“Though your nephews and Bofur seem to have adopted me,” Bilbo admitted.</p><p> </p><p>“But among your own family…you have no one close?” Thorin asked and winced as Bilbo shook his head.</p><p> </p><p>“Not now,” he forced himself to say. “Primula, Drogo and Frodo were really the only ones who maintained any real relationship. Well, since my parents died…” Inspecting him with his brilliant blue gaze, Thorin said nothing, waiting for the Librarian to continue. “They were never really close to me but they kept in contact with Mum and Dad. When they were gone, they could express themselves more freely.”</p><p> </p><p>Thorin frowned.</p><p> </p><p>“I came out after University…well, I brought a boyfriend back to a family do. Caused a dreadful scandal…Shire folk are incredibly conservative and not really very tolerant. I was already an oddity, choosing to study ancient foreign languages rather than something useful like agriculture, economics or accountancy and there were mutters that maybe University had done something to me, rather than giving me the courage to acknowledge what I had known since I was about thirteen.” Bilbo shrugged. “Mum wasn’t shocked or upset, except that she would never get to arrange me aproper wedding, since gay marriage and civil partnerships are not recognised in the Shire. Dad was more reserved-I know he disapproved and wanted to see if there was any therapy or medication I could take to make me ‘normal’ again.” He gave a bitter laugh. “Oh, he never said anything to me in person but I heard him at parties and family events. It…hurt that he couldn’t accept it was who I am.”</p><p> </p><p>“And you never got closure with his premature death,” Thorin noted.</p><p> </p><p>“His family were incredibly traditional and cut me off immediately after his death-some were foul about it and some just blanked me as if I had died with them. Lobelia Sackville-Baggins…my cousin Otho’s wife…was the worst. She actually wrote to the local paper and claimed my parents had killed themselves out of shame.” He paused and his hands were shaking with anger and hatred. “Untrue…they were T-boned by a drunken driver but why let the truth get in the way of bigotry, eh?”</p><p> </p><p>“Why indeed,” Thorin frowned. “So gay relationships are not really tolerated and there is no marriage equality?”</p><p> </p><p>“Officially, gay relationships are legal but in practice, there is rampant prejudice and most are disowned for their sexuality,” Bilbo admitted. “I guess I was lucky enough to last as long as I did-but Mum’s family were always a bit wild and she went to bat for me whenever anyone dared open their mouth. She was a fierce woman.” Thorin’s lips tilted up in a slight smile.</p><p> </p><p>“She sounds like my sister,” he commented absently. “I suspect they would have gotten on well.” Bilbo gave a small smile.</p><p> </p><p>“I certainly sounds like,” he admitted and then sighed. “After she was gone, I began re-evaluating my options and the Shire wasn’t really attractive any more. So I looked round the neighbouring institutions and Erebor had a position coming up. The rest is history.”</p><p> </p><p>“Same gender relationships have equal status in Erebor and have had for centuries,” Thorin murmured.</p><p> </p><p>“Unless the person you accidentally date is a psychopathic murderous gangster,” Bilbo grumbled. And then he shook himself. “I also received a voicemail from someone called Elrond Peredhel from Imladris.” Thorin instantly straightened up and his eyes narrowed.</p><p> </p><p>“What did he say?” he asked directly. Bilbo frowned.</p><p> </p><p>“He had a message that needed to be delivered in person-and that an old friend needed to speak to me,” he said, frowning. “He extended an open-ended invitation to me to come visit.” Thorin slumped back in his chair and muttered something under his breath. “Is there a problem?”</p><p> </p><p>“There could be,” he admitted after a pained moment. “Elrond and I…are not on good terms.”</p><p> </p><p>“Define not good?” Bilbo asked after a moment.</p><p> </p><p>“I called him a prissy self-absorbed hypocrite who was happy to thrown Erebor under the bus but started whining that he wanted full co-operation and all the men we could spare when there was the faintest sniff of our gangs moving west of the Misty Mountains…” Thorin grumbled as Bilbo’s eyebrows almost vanished into his hair.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, that could be awkward,” he murmured. “Especially since the Company were going to be my ‘plus thirteen’ on my invitation. Are you going to have sit outside in the car sulking?” Casting the Librarian a dark look, Thorin folded his arms across his chest.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t sulk,” he snapped.</p><p> </p><p>“No-I believe the Company have termed it ‘magnificent brooding’ instead,” Bilbo retorted. Thorin snorted.</p><p> </p><p>“I am aware of that fact,” he replied stiffly.</p><p> </p><p>“Look, you know they would all to a man die for you in an instant?” Bilbo replied swiftly, resting his mug down on the table. “Every man jack of them respects you completely. But they are also irreverent and won’t stand on ceremony. I’m certain they’ve dubbed me ‘the whining Hobbit’ or something similar. Compared to that, ‘magnificent brooding’ is pretty tame.” Thorin snorted again and then nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“Granted,” he conceded.</p><p> </p><p>“So how long will we be hiding in this mountain?” Bilbo asked him directly. “Not that I’m complaining. I can go out and get some sun, I’m not massively claustrophobic and as long as I don’t accidentally see the horrible mummified dismembered bodies, I should be fine…” Thorin shrugged.</p><p> </p><p>“We needed to disappear for a while-until we chase down who is betraying us and our team can find out more of what Smaug and his cronies are planning…” he admitted.</p><p> </p><p>“That may not all be on the internet,” Bilbo deduced and Thorin grimaced.</p><p> </p><p>“You are smart,” he commented. “But you are right. So we will need to shake down what contacts we have…and reach out to those who have little love for the Gundabads.”</p><p> </p><p>“I can imagine there were be a lot of those,” he murmured, sipping his cooling tea.</p><p> </p><p>“Not so many-since enemies of Smaug and the Gundabads tend to end up like the Goblins,” Thorin commented. “But there are a few…and Mirkwood is the main one.” Bilbo frowned. “Not that Thranduil and his whelp, Legolas, will give me the time of day. But Thranduil, the ‘King’ of Mirkwood, is an old spider with his contacts permeating the entire underworld and he will know what Smaug plans. He’s just unlikely to tell me.” Bilbo frowned.</p><p> </p><p>“Legolas? As in Legolas Oropher?” he asked. Thorin blinked and then nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, I believe they use Oropher as a family name,” he muttered. “You’ve heard of him?”</p><p> </p><p>“I helped him with his third year dissertation in Sindarin History at Erebor U,” Bilbo revealed. “He was struggling with his perspectives on the subject since his first language is actual Modern Sindarin. I spent about two months making him read the whole course in Quenya to give him the distance and I proof read his final dissertation before he submitted it. I got to know him…reasonably well…” A slow smile crossed Thorin’s face.</p><p> </p><p>“Master Baggins…thank you,” he said with a slight bow. “You may have just given us our way in.” Bilbo’s eyes widened.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh no,” he groaned. “I have had more than my fair share of gangsters and criminals for one lifetime! You’re not suggesting…”</p><p> </p><p>“Thranduil may be more accommodating if a request for information that would save his life comes from the man who spent so much effort in assisting his son to succeed,” Thorin told him, leaning forward, the animation returning to his face.</p><p> </p><p>“Yavanna, I should change my job title from Librarian to Doorward since I just seem to be opening doors today,” Bilbo grumbled. Thorin drained his coffee mug and grinned, the gesture genuine with amusement.</p><p> </p><p>“You are a man of more parts than you imagine, Bilbo,” he said, rising. “Don’t worry. We will defeat Smaug and get your life back.” Bilbo watched him walk off with a sigh.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>That will only work if you actually have a life to get back. But what have I actually got left? Dead relatives, a career…that will always been stained by this…and a phobia of dating. And maybe an issue with trusting someone I haven’t met before and know very little about. Is that any way to live? Especially if I may end up looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>He slumped back in his seat and watched Kili dancing around in victory.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Let’s face it: what have I got left?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>-o0o-</p><p> </p><p>Thorin paused maybe a few seconds longer than he would normally before activating the Erebor Law-Enforcement Portal and calling in. He had checked his messages once Ori had set him up with safe Wifi calling and had been completely unsurprised at the volume of vitriolic communications he had received: his men <em>had</em> practically destroyed the whole of the Bree Waterfront. He could only hope that Bard would be in a good mood when he called.</p><p> </p><p>When the call went through, he rapidly realised that his luck was completely out, for Bard was not only not in the office but had been forced to take a few personal days since his youngest daughter had been admitted to hospital. For a moment, a sick sensation filled Thorin’s chest and he feared that his superior-and friend’s-family had been targeted by the Firewyrms before the PA had blithely explained that Tilda had appendicitis and should make a full recovery. And then his call was directed straight through to his deputy.</p><p> </p><p>Tension would not be the word to describe the rigidly that filled Thorin’s body at the appearance of the familiar and loathed face on the screen. Dark weasel eyes, a round doughy face and slicked back black hair faced him above a dark suit and starched white shirt. Lieutenant Alfred Slykkespytt was a resident of Laketown, a much more downmarket and socially deprived city a few miles south of Dale and Erebor on the shores of Lake Esgaroth with inland port, multiple markets and a thriving smuggling culture where corruption was rife and the only sure thing was that the docks (and most of the city, to be honest) stank of fish. Alfred had been a political transfer, rising up the ranks of the Erebor Police due to political connections with Reginald Masterson, the Mayor of Laketown who had badgered everyone that it was a disgrace that Laketown wasn’t represented in the Erebor Police Department that covered his city as well as the other, more prosperous conurbations. Thorin always considered the man dangerous, corrupt and almost certainly in the pocket of the Mayor and anyone else who would shell out sufficient funds while being almost incompetent at actual police work. Yet he was a cunning and treacherous liar who had managed to worm his way into a position of power and at this moment, fate had decreed that he was the one Thorin had to report to.</p><p> </p><p>“Oakenshield,” Alfred sneered, his voice as slimy as the rest of him. “How good of you to grace us with your presence…finally!”</p><p> </p><p>“Slykkespytt-I’m surprised you haven’t moved your effects into Bard’s office already,” Thorin retorted.</p><p> </p><p>“Who’s to say I haven’t?” Alfred taunted him slyly. “And it’s ‘Sir’ to you, Oakenshield.”</p><p> </p><p>“Actually, we both carry the rank of Lieutenant and I have seniority,” Thorin reminded him grimly, his hands already fisted out of sight of the webcam. Alfred’s nose crinkled in a sneer.</p><p> </p><p>“Yet you are reporting to me,” he pointed out with a hint of triumph. “So what the fuck happened?” Thorin stared at him blankly, schooling his face to remain expressionless.</p><p> </p><p>“Sir?” he asked flatly, answering nothing. Alfred’s brows dipped and he started.</p><p> </p><p>“You destroyed half of Bree!” he shouted. Digging his fingernails into his palm calmed Thorin and allowed him to remind himself that he had just scored a point.</p><p> </p><p>“The Company ambushed and disposed of ten Gundabads who had been tipped off to the location of the Company and the Safe House,” he replied calmly. “Can you explain that, Alfred?”</p><p> </p><p>If looks could kill, Thorin would be stone dead as Alfred glared at him. Thorin silently claimed another point.</p><p> </p><p>“One of your blabbermouths must have betrayed the location…” he began sneeringly but Thorin interrupted.</p><p> </p><p>“Incorrect,” he snapped. “My men are absolutely loyal-and the only people they communicate with are each other. No one was aware of the mission until they were en route and I have inspected their phones. No one has made any unauthorised calls. Ergo the leak must be at your end. So who have <em>your</em> blabbermouths been talking to?”</p><p> </p><p>Thorin awarded himself yet another point at the excruciating series of facial gymnastics Alfred had to perform before he could marshal his features into a complete false expression of concern.</p><p> </p><p>“That is very disquieting,” Alfred said in a clearly false tone, his eyes locked on Thorin. “I will of course conduct investigations at this end.”</p><p> </p><p><em>Which will reveal nothing, </em>Thorin through treacherously.</p><p> </p><p>“Tell me-is that poor fool you are supposed to be protecting still alive?” Alfred sneered.</p><p> </p><p>“He is well,” Thorin confirmed.</p><p> </p><p>“I need to know where he is,” Alfred snapped.</p><p> </p><p>“No,” Thorin told him bluntly.</p><p> </p><p>“No?”</p><p> </p><p>“No.” He took a deep breath. “Until the Department stops leaking like a Laketown fishing boat, I cannot reveal out whereabouts. Safe is as good as you’re getting!” Growing red at the slur against his home town, the face on the screen twisted in hatred.</p><p> </p><p>"I could order you,” Alfred snapped.</p><p> </p><p>“And I would still have to refuse. I have operational autonomy,” Thorin reminded him in a growl, deducting a point from his own total. He was allowing the worm of a man to get to him.</p><p> </p><p>“Not any more,” Alfred told him with a smirk. “I’m revoking it due to your incompetence, recklessness and complete disregard for any operating procedures or the safety of innocents including your charge. I want your Bilbo Baggins back here in four hours so he can be assigned a proper team, not a broken down bunch of has-beens, weirdos and rejects who treat the force like a personal mission rather than a properly-regulated public service!”</p><p> </p><p>“YOU CAN’T!” Thorin roared, lurching to his feet, automatically counting minus three points for losing his cool completely.</p><p> </p><p>“Seven hundred thousand crowns’ worth of damage to the Bree Waterfront says I can!” Alfred crowed.</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t have the authority!” Thorin repeated, gritting his teeth and tried to rein his temper in-always a difficult prospect at the best of times.</p><p> </p><p>“No-but I contacted the Commissioner after your latest debacle and even Dain Nainson couldn’targue that you aren’t a loose cannon!” Alfred sneered. “You are ordered to return to Erebor, hand in your badge and stand down pending a full Internal Affairs Enquiry into this debacle and all your other previous ‘escapades’. For too long you and your band of losers have treated the Erebor Police Department like a club to indulge your personal vendetta and you have cost lives, property and convictions through your incompetence, disregard for the rules and stupidity!” He leaned forward. “If you had utilised proper witness protection protocols, maybe your siblings would be alive now.”</p><p> </p><p>For a moment, Thorin couldn’t hear or see, deaf to all except the roar of blood in his ears and the image of Dis dying cycling over and over before his eyes. His nails had broken the skin of his palms and the pain broke through the memories. For a second, there was calm amid the storm and he was able to push back the raging flames of his absolute fury to claw at some coherent thought. He straightened up and stared into the mocking face, his eyes cold with determination.</p><p> </p><p>“I must decline,” he ground out through his teeth. “The Department is compromised, Smaug is making moves into new territory and this may be our last chance to stop him. If I bring Bilbo back to Erebor, he’s dead.”</p><p> </p><p>“That is a direct order from the Commissioner,” Alfred told him smugly. “You don’t arrive back here in four hours and I’ll issue a warrant for your arrest. You’d look good in a cell.”</p><p> </p><p>“I hope you were paid well, Alfred, because Mahal himself couldn’t stop me exposing you for the corrupt, lying, treacherous sack of shit you are!” Thorin growled. Alfred gave a smirk.</p><p> </p><p>“If you ever return home alive,” he breathed. “You may be able to hide from Smaug-but can you hide from the Erebor Police Department?” He leaned closer to the camera. “I’ll have your badge and then I’ll see you behind bars. I’m sure there will be plenty of people happy to make your acquaintance there.” Thorin glared at him.</p><p> </p><p>“If there is one scrap of proof you’re involved, Slykkespytt, I will find it and you can room with your buddies Smaug and Azog!” he growled and stabbed at the keyboard, severing the connection. Head sagging forward, he snapped the laptop closed, hands flat on the smooth surface and breathing hard. He’d allowed himself to be manoeuvred by Alfred, let the traitor press his buttons and play with him in a manner that Smaug would have been proud of. He took a slow breath. Normally, he was more controlled but the double blow of hearing Smaug’s voice taunting Bilbo and reliving the deaths of his family with the Librarian seemed to have knocked his self-control more than he had imagined.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, that could have gone better,” Balin commented from the doorway. Still breathing hard against his anger, Thorin graced him with a sideways glance.</p><p> </p><p>“How? Alfred could have dropped dead during the conversation? Smaug could have rung in and given himself up?” he asked dryly. Balin gave a wry chuckle, his eyes pensive.</p><p> </p><p>“You could have tried some platitudes,” Balin suggested. “Or stalled?”</p><p> </p><p>“How?”</p><p> </p><p>“Car breakdown, adverse weather, illness…to buy time to get in contact with someone sensible,” Balin told him. “Dain, for example. He is a cousin.”</p><p> </p><p>“And he’ll have been fed a hatful of lies from that slime-sucking ass-licking treacherous little…”</p><p> </p><p>“Perhaps. But you don’t have to respond to the bait every time,” the older man suggested. Thorin growled in his throat.</p><p> </p><p>“He brought up Frerin and Dis,” he forced out.</p><p> </p><p>“And that was a low blow, Thorin…but you know that he’s a weasel. Mahal made us of stone…but that one is definitely fashioned of mud…or worse…” Balin reassured him.</p><p> </p><p>“He was always going to recall us after Bree…and I’m sure he’s in their pay…” Thorin growled.</p><p> </p><p>“Probably…but without proof, you can’t just sling accusations around,” Balin sighed and wandered in, resting a hand firmly on Thorin’s tense shoulder for a moment. “It would help if the Company didn’t cause more death and destruction than a small hurricane…”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll try to mention it to the lads,” Thorin sighed, his anger ebbing away. “Balin…I can’t let them close us down. Smaug is making his move and I promised Bilbo that I would protect him.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah…that could be awkward if you’re in a cell,” the older man conceded. “Of course, I can make some calls and see if I can diplomatically recruit someone to speak up on our behalf.”</p><p> </p><p>“Probably no one from Bree,” Thorin noted grimly.</p><p> </p><p>“Was that a joke?” Balin asked him as he sagged into a chair. Thorin shook his head.</p><p> </p><p>“We’re not going to get any back-up now,” he mumbled. “Not that I have endeared myself to most of the other law enforcement agencies over the years…” Balin scratched his chin thoughtfully.</p><p> </p><p>“You want me to tell the Company?” he asked but Thorin shook his head.</p><p> </p><p>“No,” he murmured quietly. “See what you can learn first. Reach out to your contacts. I’ll speak to Dain myself and…” He paused. “And hope we can uncover what Smaug and Azog are planning.”</p><p> </p><p>“We can always hide in the mountains for a few months,” Balin suggested but Thorin shook his head.</p><p> </p><p>“Apart from needing provisions which is going to be a pressing issue sooner rather than later, we both know Smaug will start to cause more death, misery and destruction until he gets what he wants,” he murmured.</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe he already has,” Balin said lightly. “You’re isolated from back-up, he’s undermined you with Bilbo and you’re out in the wilds and a long way from any help. If they locate us, we both know what the outcome will be.”</p><p> </p><p>“Then we make sure we stay ahead of the Gundabads,” Thorin said, closing his eyes and sitting back in his chair. “We have no choice. Once I’ve spoke to Dain, I’ll call Thranduil. Bilbo and I will have to go to Mirkwood.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter Eleven</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>ELEVEN:</b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Bilbo was unsurprised when he was ambushed on his way back to his room because he had heard the boys scramble after him. Fili and Kili had adopted him as their pet project and both of them were welcome company, to be honest. His head and heart were still too full of all the information and emotions he had been bombarded with today and he was grateful for the distraction as they flanked him. Fili leaned close.</p><p> </p><p>“Tell me, Master Baggins,” he asked seriously. “Can you fire a gun?”</p><p> </p><p>Bilbo frowned and then his inner sarcasm kicked in.</p><p> </p><p>“I suspect I could manage,” he retorted. “It’s kind of point and click technology, isn’t it?” Kili sniggered as Fili frowned at the reply.</p><p> </p><p>“What my suddenly very pompous brother meant is ‘can you actually shoot anything’?” Kili cut in, a huge grin splitting his face. Fili snorted and then began to laugh.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay…I may have just leapt into ‘Uncle’ mode there,” he conceded as Bilbo felt himself steered past the gallery where he had accidentally seen the remains of the former occupants of the cave system and down a long slope to a wide flat area with four targets set up. Bilbo frowned.</p><p> </p><p>“You’ve set up a shooting range? Here? In the mountain?” he asked incredulously.</p><p> </p><p>“Um…yeah?” Kili asked, taken aback by the Librarian’s sudden angry expression. “It was Dwalin’s idea…well, Thorin's really but Mr Dwalin really does love to keep us on our toes and training…”</p><p> </p><p>“You went to the time and effort to find a suitable space to set up a training area and a shooting range but you couldn’t be bothered to gather up those poor souls and inter them with some meagre semblance of dignity?” Bilbo yelled. The two young officers backed up and shared a look.</p><p> </p><p>“We had nothing to do with it!” Kili gabbled hastily, glancing to his brother for support. Fili took a deep breath but he looked as unnerved as his brother at the suddenly ferocious Librarian.</p><p> </p><p>“It was Dwalin!” he added swiftly and then paused. “Well, to be accurate Thorin and Dwalin but I’m sure the actual impetus was all Dwalin’s since he’s convinced we’re completely hopeless at combat and need training several times every day in case we get ambushed and killed on the way to the latrines!” He gave a huge sigh.</p><p> </p><p>“Better?” Kili checked.</p><p> </p><p>“You have no idea,” his older brother admitted with chagrin. Bilbo stared at them.</p><p> </p><p>“Is no one round here vaguely in touch with the human race?” he demanded. “I mean…”</p><p> </p><p>“We get it,” Kili soothed him, his expression serious. “And no, they don’t tend to think like normal people. This has literally been Thorin’s life since he reached adulthood. And for us…” He paused. “We watched Mum die in Thorin’s arms. Dad had already been murdered. And he was…awesome. I mean he was hopeless at all the normal family cooking and looking after us things but Mum had already taught us that. But he cared for us. And whenever we struggled, he was there. No matter how silly or how long after…he was always there. And I don’t think he ever shared with us.”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t think he realised he could,” Fili added quietly. “He shut it off so we wouldn’t feel bad. He gave everything to us to help us come to terms with losing them. But I suspect he never allowed himself the same luxury.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>He did. Just with me. Yavanna, how did that happen?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Bilbo sighed.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry,” he apologised, his anger subsiding as swiftly as it had reared its head. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you because I know you lost your parents and how. But seeing the bodies brought it back…” The young officers shared a look and hugged him again.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s okay,” Fili reassured him, squeezing him tight. “And we do want to help. That’s why we’re here.” But Kili frowned.</p><p> </p><p>“How did you find out?” he murmured. Bilbo had the grace to look embarrassed.</p><p> </p><p>“Thorin,” he admitted. “After we had our little argument, he came out and explained everything.”</p><p> </p><p>“Everything?” Fili asked, his brow furrowed.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Everything</em>,” Bilbo said quietly and the pair gaped. Then they shared a long look and mouthed a couple of words in Khuzdul. Bilbo groaned. He could understand the language but being able to lip read was beyond him. Then turned back to him with identical smiles on their faces.</p><p> </p><p>“Shooting!” Kili said brightly. “Okay-you can use my spare. Because it’s smaller…” Bilbo raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “And you’re smaller as well. I mean, this is a Durinul IV, one of the best smaller handguns we have.” Fili waved his weapon happily.</p><p> </p><p>“Durinul VI-a bit bigger and more powerful,” he said cheerfully. “Like me.” Bilbo peered at them.</p><p> </p><p>“Durinul?” he asked, recalling Thorin’s true family name.</p><p> </p><p>“The Durin family were the hereditary rulers for centuries and after the Monarchy was abolished, they were public servants. The younger brother of Thorin’s grandfather, Fror Durin, started Erebor Arms and Munitions. They are still in business, though owned by lots of members of the family and run by an appointed board. But they make the best guns and the Company all uses them…” Fili continued proudly. Kili nudged him.</p><p> </p><p>“Except Thorin…” he reminded Fili and his older brother rolled his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, right,” he muttered darkly.</p><p> </p><p>“What?” Bilbo demanded. “Why does nothing make any sense?”</p><p> </p><p>“Thorin doesn’t use an Erebor weapon,” Kili revealed. “He was on a joint mission-the last one we did which didn’t go well, of course. I think he was further west with Imladris forces. They found a weapons cache-an old one of Smaug’s and there was a fierce gun battle with the smugglers and trafficker who were trying to move the arms to the Firewyrm Command HQ in Angmar. They were pinned down and Thorin grabbed a gun from the haul-a Gondolin-made handgun. Orcrist. Apparently it was a special edition. Damn thing was lethal and he pretty much fell in love with it, even though it wasn’t Erebor made. He kept it though pretty much everyone chewed his ear off because it should have been turned in and destroyed. He loves than gun…”</p><p> </p><p>“And it’s better than anything we have…though of course, none of us would admit it,” Fili added with a sigh. “Now can we shoot something?”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay…”</p><p> </p><p>In fact, the pair were very thorough in explaining how the gun worked, safety rules and tips and in helping Bilbo hold the gun and feel comfortable. They even fished out a pair of motel-issue earplugs (still sealed in their plastic wrapper, thankfully) to act as makeshift ear defenders. Then, certain they had done everything, they pointed Bilbo towards his target, put in their own earplugs and stepped back. Kili gave a huge thumbs up before he crossed his fingers behind his back.</p><p> </p><p>Bilbo glared down the sights at the centre of the target and allowed himself to become calm. And then he gently squeezed the trigger. He repeated the action over and over until all eight bullets were spent and then he gently thumbed on the safety and pointed the weapon at the ground.</p><p> </p><p>“Um…done?’ he called as the two brothers walked forward.</p><p> </p><p>“Un…” Kili breathed.</p><p> </p><p>“…believable…” Fili finished. Then they walked to the target.</p><p> </p><p>All eight bullet holes were overlapping, the edges of each just discernible, clustered in the exact centre of the target. Both brothers walked to the target just to make sure before they turned back to the Shireling and stomped forward.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re a ringer!” Kill accused him.</p><p> </p><p>“You’ve done this before!” Fili translated. Bilbo backed up a step at the irritation in their faces.</p><p> </p><p>“No-no I haven’t!” he protested. “But I’m from the Shire. Don’t you know we all have good aim?” They paused and looked perplexed.</p><p> </p><p>“Um…no,” Kili replied reluctantly.</p><p> </p><p>“We throw stones at crows in the fields from when we can walk,” Bilbo explained. “Hopstones and darts are favourite pastimes. Maybe a bit of archery as well. And I am the all-Shire Conkers champion for three years running.” Understanding dawned on their faces.</p><p> </p><p>“So is this ‘conkers’ a fierce weapon?” Fili checked. Bilbo’s mouth dropped open.</p><p> </p><p>“Um…no…” he admitted. “More a game of strategy, strength and accuracy…”</p><p> </p><p>“Then how…?” Kili asked. Bilbo sighed.</p><p> </p><p>“My first…well, only boyfriend, Falco Bolger used to love the arcades,” Bilbo admitted. “We’d go the local multiplex and play the arcade games in the foyer for hours, feast on popcorn and watch some trashy movie. I mean he always wanted the slasher or horror pictures but I can’t stomach that so romance or action it was and…” He looked embarrassed. “I tended to set the high scores on all the shooting ones. To the extent where Falco stopped taking us there because he was so embarrassed…and jealous…” He shrugged. “He dumped me not long after for someone a bit more into slasher movies and drugs.” Then he sighed.</p><p> </p><p>“Right,” Kili said, looking uncomfortable. “Let’s just check that wasn’t a fluke.” He took Bilbo’s gun and reloaded. “Next target…”</p><p> </p><p>They repeated the process twice more with the same results. Bilbo’s aim was deliberate and near flawless. The brothers were poleaxed and even Dwalin, who observed silently from the walkway, couldn’t fault his aim-though he made a mental note to speak to the lads about putting more effort into improving their aim, if even a Librarian could outshoot them. Finally, Fili conceded defeat and stuffed his gun back into its holster.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m beat,’ he mumbled. “He’s got better aim than everyone except Thorin, Dwalin and Balin.”</p><p> </p><p>“Embarrassing, isn’t it?” Bilbo said apologetically.</p><p> </p><p>“No-it’s a mark of our awesome tuition!” Kili said with a huge grin. “Mr Dwalin can’t say we don’t know anything about shooting now!”</p><p> </p><p>“Just not enough about how to do it ourselves,” Fili reminded him and then he sighed. “But good job, Bilbo. At least Thorin’s mind will be easier if he knows you can defend yourself in a pinch.” Bilbo nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay,” he said reluctantly. “Just try to make sure it doesn’t get to that.”</p><p> </p><p>“We make no promises,” Kili told him, then paused. Fili turned to face the Librarian seriously.</p><p> </p><p>“And please,” he said in a grave voice. “Try not to hurt Uncle.”</p><p> </p><p>Bilbo paused and then stared at him. He wasn’t sure where this came from or how it related to him but it was very perplexing and he wasn’t sure what they brothers were getting at.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not sure that’s even possible," he pointed out. “I mean, if I tried to do anything, he’d probably break my neck-twice-and then shoot me before I could lay a finger on him. And that’s not counting the whole death stare thing he has going on…”</p><p> </p><p>“Good call on the death stare,” Kili complimented him. “But no-that's not what we’re talking about. Don’t hurt him.”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t understand…” Bilbo frowned. Fili sighed.</p><p> </p><p>“I think…Uncle likes you,” he said.</p><p> </p><p>There was absolute silence before Bilbo almost choked.</p><p> </p><p>“What?” he coughed. “I'm sorry. Likes me? As in LIKES? I’ve known him maybe three days and most of that has been nowhere near him. Except when I punched him for my cousins being blown up which yes, <em>I know</em> wasn’t his fault. Oh and yelled at him for not hiding all those bodies.”</p><p> </p><p>“He saved your life,” Fili pointed out.</p><p> </p><p>“You got him lunch in the garage,” Kili added.</p><p> </p><p>“He bought you clothes,” Fili noted.</p><p> </p><p>“He insisted you came with us,” Kili sighed. “In our car. Even after we had kidnapped you to use you for bait to get the people who wanted to kill you away from the people supposed to be stopping them killing you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Not actually our finest hour, Ki,” Fili reminded him.</p><p> </p><p>“Nope,.”</p><p> </p><p>“You talk to him by choice,” Fili added.</p><p> </p><p>“And he talks to you. Normally. And he looks happier when he’s finished,” Kili noted.</p><p> </p><p>“And he told you all about our family,” the older brother concluded. “He never does that. He hasn’t even told Captain Bard everything.”</p><p> </p><p>“This is madness!” Bilbo exploded, throwing his arms in the air. “Honestly, why would you think…”</p><p> </p><p>“Because he’s Thorin and he never does anything the easy way,” Dwalin commented, walking slowly down the ramp. The brothers paled at the heavy bootsteps and backed away from the Librarian, looking like kicked puppies. Though he was their blood kin, Dwalin was Thorin’s undisputed closest friend and they guessed he wouldn’t be kindly disposed to them gossiping about him to their civilian. “Nice grouping of targets, Master Baggins. You may surprise someone, one of these days…”</p><p> </p><p>“Um…thanks,” Bilbo mumbled, unsure what else to say.</p><p> </p><p>“You two need to buck yourselves up if this Librarian can outshoot you,” Dwalin added, his eyes narrowing. I’m taking you in an intensive session once I’ve said my piece…”</p><p> </p><p>“See?” Kili hissed, elbowing his brother.</p><p> </p><p>“Shhh…”</p><p> </p><p>“But these two rock headed lunatics aren’t that far from the truth,” Dwalin continued, staring closely at Bilbo. There was concern in his eyes. “Thorin is fiercely protective and he feels that most to those he cares for. I’m not sure he even realises it yet but he sees you as a friend. Maybe more one day, who knows? But he will spend his life to save you-so please don’t put yourself in situation where that may become a necessity.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll try not to,” Bilbo gulped. “Actually, not putting myself in any sort of dangerous situation would be immensely preferable…” Dwalin folded his arms across his chest and gave his best scowl.</p><p> </p><p>“Granted. And now…I don’t think I should be telling you this but you need to know,” Dwalin said as Bilbo scowled.</p><p> </p><p>“Why does everyone say that and then feel the need to dump some horrible information on me that I could happily live my entire life without knowing?” he complained but Dwalin gave a thin smile.</p><p> </p><p>“Because you seem to be becoming part of the Company-whether you like it or not,” he explained gruffly as Bilbo sighed and rubbed his nose in defeat.</p><p> </p><p>“You are more agreeable than my entire family and pretty much all of my workmates…which in turn makes me the saddest man on Arda,” he sighed. The boys shook their heads.</p><p> </p><p>“Nope-Thorin’s the holder of that title for about the last twenty five years,” Kili corrected him as Dwalin scowled.</p><p> </p><p>“Not far off,” he growled. “Look, he’s had one serious relationship…a couple of years after the boys came to live with him…”</p><p> </p><p>“He knows,” Fili hissed in a loud whisper.</p><p> </p><p>“He’s standing next to you,” Bilbo snapped.</p><p> </p><p>“The guy was persistent but he was kind and he really seemed to like Thorin,” Dwalin explained. “I have never seen him like this. I think he was actually falling in love with him. But Nori’s contacts warned there was a plot…to get to the boys. The guy was planted and spent six months grooming Thorin, inveigling his way into every aspect of their lives until he got his chance. He was terrifyingly patient. We presented the evidence to Thorin and he realised the only person the intelligence could refer to. I think we all watched his heart break. And then he went home and waited. He confronted the guy when he came round for dinner-having got the lads safely out and in our custody. He tried to kill Thorin and he almost succeeded because he had completely blindsided Thorin. We all wanted to come in but he had insisted we wait until Thorin himself gave the word. We were all concerned that we would end up listening to Thorin’s death. All he did was defend himself until that…traitor…mentioned the rest of the family. That snapped Thorin out of his funk and he protected himself properly. It got ugly but he killed him.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yavanna,” Bilbo breathed.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not sure what his real name was,” Dwalin murmured. “He never showed up on any of the databases. He called himself Narin Kaliol.”</p><p> </p><p>“After that, Thorin seemed…like someone had flipped a switch,” Fili murmured. “We never mentioned him. <em>He</em> never mentioned him. He just drew us closer and became more protective. But he never showed any interest in any sort of relationship afterwards. I guess he was worried that it was a risk.”</p><p> </p><p>“A weakness,” Dwalin confirmed.</p><p> </p><p>“Not messed up <em>at all</em>,” Bilbo muttered. “Green Lady, why do I need to know?”</p><p> </p><p>“Thorin is my friend,” Dwalin repeated. “My shield brother. And he is already more open with you than with half the Company let alone anyone outside. I don’t think he even realises-because if he did, he would be mortified…”</p><p> </p><p>“He’d refuse to accept it and then he’d make himself bloody miserable and the rest of us with it,” Fili added. He caught the older man’s look. “What? He’s my uncle and I know him as well as anyone!”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, there isn’t anything there to refuse to accept!” Bilbo snapped tartly. They all stared at him. Kili sagged.</p><p> </p><p>“Aww c’mon!” he whined. “How can you not think he’s awesome?”</p><p> </p><p>“Kili-when you actually grow up you will learn that life doesn’t work as simply as that…” Bilbo told him shortly.</p><p> </p><p>“But Uncle was voted the hottest member of the Company!” Kili whined.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s that got to do with anything?” Bilbo asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, Thorin was definitely the hottest-like everyone voted for him…and Ki is only in a huff because he was voted least hot,” Fili explained.</p><p> </p><p>“Was not!” Kili pouted.</p><p> </p><p>“You see? Pouting! Mahal, even Dwalin was voted hotter than you…” Fili continued, drawing a furious scowl from the large officer. </p><p>“Aww…”</p><p> </p><p>“I mean, Ori and I voted for you…because Ori is kind-hearted and I’m your brother,” Fili pressed on. “But Dwalin got four votes! I mean, that’s epic…Balin got three and Ori got five, FIVE!”</p><p> </p><p>“I repeat my question,” Bilbo sighed.</p><p> </p><p>“Look, Thorin is hot, impressive, broods majestically, will give his life for you, has actually smiled at you…” Fili continued.</p><p> </p><p><em>Bared his soul to me over his family. Shared most of his darkest secrets…and let’s not even mention the saving my life from falling off a cliff…</em> Bilbo thought. <em>And he’s been perfectly professional despite my behaving like a hysterical schoolgirl.</em></p><p> </p><p>“How can you not like him?” Kili asked plaintively. Bilbo glanced over to Dwalin.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll let you explain,” he said and stalked off. Rolling his eyes, the bald officer glared at his two younger colleagues.</p><p> </p><p>“Shooting drill…” he growled to a chorus of whines.</p><p> </p><p>-o0o-</p><p> </p><p>When Bilbo finally felt ready to return to the Company, he had stashed the gun among his things, read a couple of ancient poems in their original language and had a quick shower. It was getting late so he ambled into the common room-to find everyone there waiting for him. Bombur had almost finished cooking some sort of meat curry and rice while the others were relaxing. Ori was knitting, Dori was embroidering and Gloin was doing some sort of needlepoint. Bofur was carving a wooden figure, Balin was reading ‘Moby Dick’, Dwalin was polishing one of his shotguns (Bilbo noted they had the words GRASPER and KEEPER engraved on the stocks), Bifur was whittling, Nori was absent (presumably on guard duty) and Oin was playing chess with Thorin while the lads were watching. Sighing, Bilbo plopped down nearest to Bombur.</p><p> </p><p>“You need a hand?” he asked. The large officer shook his head, his double jowls moving slightly.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m done,” he admitted. “But thanks. It’s nice someone asks occasionally. I’ve not done it too spicy-is that okay?” Raising an eyebrow, Bilbo gave a reassuring smirk.</p><p> </p><p>“I’me getting used to Ereborean cuisine,” he said wryly. “I can take a little heat.” Grinning. Bombur clapped him on the shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>“Good man,” he said cheerfully. “Could you help me dish up?”</p><p> </p><p>It was a small victory as Bilbo helped hand out the bowls of curry and rice which were fallen on by the entire Company like ravenous men. Thorin glanced up and gave a small smile of thanks before he proceeded to announce “Checkmate” to a bemused Oin. Kili rolled his eyes and handed a twenty dollar note over to a smug-looking Fili while the others chuckled. But when Bilbo settled next to Ori and chatted amiably, he couldn’t help sneaking a look at Thorin when no one was looking.</p><p> </p><p>The boys were completely wrong. He’d <em>punched</em> Thorin, for Yavanna’s sake! And despite the fact that Thorin was extremely hot, had a voice like a god and frankly Bilbo fancied the pants off him, the Librarian was deluded enough to believe anything could possibly come of it. It was just the wishful thinking of two orphaned nephews who prayed their Uncle could one day find happiness.</p><p> </p><p>Then Thorin stood up as the last bowl was scraped clean and faced the Company.</p><p> </p><p>“There has been a complication,” he announced without preamble. “Our little escapade in Bree did not go unnoticed.”</p><p> </p><p>“Now that’s hardly a surprise,” Gloin grumbled.</p><p> </p><p>“Except that Bard is on emergency leave,” Thorin revealed. “Tilda’s ill-nothing serious-but he’s out of action. So his second in command-Alfred the liar-talked to Dain and they’ve decided we need to take Bilbo back to Erebor and be disbanded…”</p><p> </p><p>He was drowned out by a chorus of yells, shouts and protests as everyone had a say. Bilbo felt his blood run cold and stared across the Company. Then he froze, for Balin was sitting quietly, looking at his fellows and a small smile on his lips.</p><p> </p><p>He knew.</p><p> </p><p>“ENOUGH!” Thorin shouted. “I appreciate your vote of confidence. I refused.” There were sighs and mutters but the Company resumed their seats, every eye on him…even Bombur who had served himself seconds. “The deadline given me to return Bilbo to Erebor was four hours from the time we talked…which expired half an hour ago. So you are absolved of any blame because you didn’t know.”</p><p> </p><p>“Not that we could get Mister Baggins back to Erebor in four hours given our location but that was irrelevant,” Balin announced.</p><p> </p><p>“If he goes back, he will be killed…or taken,” Thorin continued. “There is a mole in the department-of that I am certain. So we remain off the grid. If…when…we go back, I anticipate the entire book being thrown at me. I do not blame anyone who wishes to preserve his career and leaves now.” He paused and folded his arms across his chest, his steely glare sweeping over them. There was a long moment.</p><p> </p><p>“You wanna get on with the rest of what you have planned?” Bofur called. “We’re not going anywhere!” Bilbo released a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding and saw a flicker of relief cross Thorin’s face.</p><p> </p><p>"Thank you, my friends,” he said honestly. “That means we have no backup, everyone will be looking for us and allies are thin on the ground.”</p><p> </p><p>“The usual situation then,” Nori yelled. There were a chorus of laughs but there was a tension running through the Company now. Thorin nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“Dain will not take my calls. Nor will anyone else. I have left a message for Bard but I doubt he’ll be able to do anything. He knows how to contact me if he wants. The others…not so much.” Then he sighed. “So we need better intelligence…and only one person can provide that. So in the morning. Dori, Bombur and Gloin will go to Taylorville for supplies while Bilbo and I are going to Mirkwood to see Thranduil.”</p><p> </p><p>“You mean the man who threatened to gut you last time you met?” Dwalin asked, his eyes concerned.</p><p> </p><p>“In the direction you deliberately misdirected the cashier in the fuel stop?” Bilbo murmured. Thorin cast him an apprising look and then nodded wearily.</p><p> </p><p>“We’ll go the back way,” he said.</p><p> </p><p>“There’s a back way?” Bilbo asked, not missing the looks of alarm from the rest of the Company. “WHAT? You are all looking as if this is the worst plan in the history of the world. What is the problem?” Balin glanced around and sighed.</p><p> </p><p>“Thorin has the worst sense of direction in the Company,” he revealed.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, I really wish you’d told me that before I followed him up a mountain,” Bilbo replied with sarcasm. The others winced.</p><p> </p><p>“No, seriously,” Dori added. “We went on a training exercise and we lost the venue. And the town. And the entire county. We were out by 200 miles.”</p><p> </p><p>“It was an easy mistake,” Thorin growled. clearly embarrassed. Bilbo groaned.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve a mobile phone and an ability to navigate so I’m sure we’ll be fine,” he announced to the astonishment of everyone else. Fili nudged Kili and Bilbo’s heart sank. Thorin, though, looked insanely grateful before his controlled mask was back in place.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you, Bilbo,” he said regally. ‘Everyone else-stay here. We’re leaving at 7.30 sharp in the morning so we all need a good night’s sleep.” Then he sat down and reset the chess board. Bilbo slumped in his chair.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Somehow he had agreed to travelling all the way to Greenwood to see a probable gangster with the man he was crushing on and who the boys suspected may like him back. Which wasn’t possible. Not happening. Ever. At all.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Bilbo was so screwed.</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter Twelve</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Apologies for the delay. Minor health issues. Anyway-enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>TWELVE:</b>
</p><p> </p><p>It was raining. <em>Of course it was raining, </em>Bilbo thought glumly. He should probably grateful there wasn’t a hail of fire or frogs and some sort of tornado as well.</p><p> </p><p>Trudging down the mountain in the rain wasn’t much fun, no matter how much Dori, Bombur and Gloin tried to raise the mood by chatting. Everyone rolled their eyes when the latter launched into another long-winded tale about his son, Gimli. There was no doubt that Gloin was intensely proud of his family but that unfortunately translated into talking about them at ridiculous length at every opportunity. Even Bilbo had learned not to give Gloin an opportunity to get going. But no one had the will or enthusiasm to shut him up so he managed to drone on for two hours until they finally reached the woods. It was all downhill and the going was quicker, though Bilbo found himself watching Thorin as he strode along the trail. There was an easy grace as the tall officer led the way, as if he could walk halfway across the continent while Bilbo was already puffing and wishing that he was back home by his fire. His embarrassing crush on Thorin wasn’t getting better as he watched the man in his leather trousers, boots, shirt and long fur-trimmed leather jacket. He was unfairly easy on the eye while Bilbo was doing a passable imitation of a (rather short) drowned rat.</p><p> </p><p>Once they finally reached the cars, the others headed off in the family saloon while Thorin clambered into his car and looked at Bilbo. For a moment, Bilbo stood staring stupidly before his brain re-engaged and he got into the passenger seat. For a moment, Thorin frowned at him before starting the engine and pulling off, following the other car back to the main road. To cover his embarrassment, Bilbo fiddled with the Maps on his phone, frowning until he recalled what Ori had done and restoring the connection with the network. He peered at the screen, waiting until he got a signal and then plotting the route from their current position. And then he sat back and stared out of the window.</p><p> </p><p>“Dwalin tells me that you have been shooting,” Thorin said after a long silence. Starting, Bilbo glanced back and him and shifted in his seat. He felt his cheeks heat.</p><p> </p><p>“Um…it wasn’t as bad as he said,” he mumbled. Thorin snatched a glance, his piercing cerulean inspection making Bilbo even more self-conscious.</p><p> </p><p>“He said you were very good,” he noted quietly. Bilbo blushed harder.</p><p> </p><p>“I should have challenged them to a game of conkers,” he muttered. To his surprise, Thorin started chuckling.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not sure my poor nephews could handle the additional humiliation,” he commented. “You’ve already proven better at shooting than they are. Beating them at conkers would only add to their shame…” Starting, Bilbo bristled and was about to defend himself when he suddenly caught the playful light in Thorin’s eyes and he realised, with shock, that the taciturn leader was actually joking with him. He huffed.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll have you know, I was the All-Shire Conkers Champion for three consecutive years!” he snapped back as Thorin laughed.</p><p> </p><p>“I do know what conkers is,” he admitted. “Though almost no one here in Erebor would. There was a Horse Chestnut tree in the grounds of my boarding school, over in Ered Luin. I never had the patience to be a champion…” He gave a small nostalgic smile. “Though Frerin was pretty fair at the game…” Bilbo was watching as his face fell and kicked himself for raising the subject, even though he couldn’t have known…but there had been a certain warmth in seeing Thorin smile at the memory of his dead brother.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s taken very seriously in the Shire,” Bilbo offered. “Everyone plays…though some resort to cheating…” Thorin grunted though his expression invited Bilbo to keep talking and he obliged, discussing the few cases of cheating he had heard of, from boiling conkers in vinegar to baking in the oven and even encasing in clear industrial varnish. By the time they had to turn off the main road, Thorin was chuckling and impressed at the determination and innovation used by the Shirelings to win at any cost. Bilbo craned his neck and peered up at the branches of the trees that lined the lane as they accelerated down the steep incline. The hedges on either side were overgrown and he thought he could glimpse the occasional ramshackle farmhouse in the distance through the trees.</p><p> </p><p>“This is the back way,” Thorin explained, his eyes fixed on the road. “It’s definitely free of prying eyes…”</p><p> </p><p>“But is narrow and doesn’t seem to have any turns until you reach the end,” Bilbo added, peering at the map on the SatNav. He had programmed that as well, though Thorin muttered that he was perfectly capable of finding his way without some computer bossing him around. Recalling Dori’s words, Bilbo wisely said nothing until they screeched to a halt as the end of the road loomed ahead in a T junction with another small lane. Unerringly, Thorin turned left and accelerated away. Bilbo sighed.</p><p> </p><p>“You do know the correct way was right?” he asked wearily. Thorin glanced at him.</p><p> </p><p>“You didn’t say anything,” he accused the Librarian.</p><p> </p><p>“No-the SatNav did. And the map had a huge red ‘turning right’ arrow. And let’s not even mention the road sign which pointed to ‘Greenwood’ to the right!”</p><p> </p><p>There was a pointed silence until Thorin jammed on the brakes and did an awkward five point turn.</p><p> </p><p>“I would be grateful if you would tell me which direction I should take,” he said stiffly as they sped back down the lane. The trees had almost closed they branches over them and with the huge high hedges to either side, it almost felt like they were driving down a green tunnel. Bilbo nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes. Sorry,” he sighed as Thorin allowed his shoulders to slump.</p><p> </p><p>“I may be…a little touchy about my directional challengedness,” he conceded. “The Company are a loyal and willing group but they do ensure that I am reminded on an almost daily basis that I have the navigational abilities of a rock. Which wouldn’t be so insulting to a dwarrow as my distant ancestors were but today, it…rankles…” Sitting back, Bilbo recalled the conversation with Fili and Kili.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not sure you do,” he suggested as the continued on the way. “Carry on, by the way, until we reach a staggered junction.” Thorin nodded slightly. “The boys told me you used to take them hiking and walking. Now admittedly, I am not the most outdoors of people but I believe both of those demand a certain amount of navigational ability to actually find your way back.or to where you are going… I think you’re not great with SatNavs or at reading road signs but I’m sure you can find your way if you really have to.”</p><p> </p><p>“Kind of you to say,” Thorin commented tightly as they approached a junction.</p><p> </p><p>“Right then immediately turn left,” Bilbo told him, checking his phone. “I think you’ve lost your confidence.” A silent shrug from Thorin conceded the fact. Inspecting his hands for a few minutes, Bilbo sighed. “So what is Thranduil Oropher like?” he asked.</p><p> </p><p>There was an awkward silence.</p><p> </p><p>“Difficult,” Thorin said after glaring at the road ahead. “I am aware you know his son but I can honestly say that his demeanour is calculated and cold. He is the head of Mirkwood, a criminal family based in the Greenwood. They’ve let the forest go and have released animals into the woods to ensure that anyone trying to sneak up on them or interfere with their business comes to a very nasty end. That and their security organisation, Ungoliant…”</p><p> </p><p>Bilbo started.</p><p> </p><p>“Ungoliant? As in the giant evil spider of the First Age? The destroyer of the Two Trees of Valinor?” he asked as Thorin frowned.</p><p> </p><p>“I defer to your classical knowledge,” he said in a measured voice. “But their symbol is a spider.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah. That sounds singularly unpromising,” Bilbo noted.</p><p> </p><p>“Thranduil can be charming and regal…but underneath, he’s a manipulative, cruel, vindictive, completely self-centred old spider,” Thorin growled, his eyes fixed on the tarmac as they turned right onto the Forest Road. He glanced up briefly.</p><p> </p><p>“The others said that he threatened to disembowel you?” Bilbo checked.</p><p> </p><p>“He and my grandfather…had issues,” Thorin muttered.</p><p> </p><p>“What sort of issues?” Bilbo demanded, swivelling slightly in his seat to inspect the officer. Thorin’s attention was determinedly on the way, not looking at the Librarian. The Forest Road was wide, bumpy and wove between the trees with the canopy almost closing overhead. The forest of Mirkwood itself was dark and gloomy, with vines hanging between the trees and brambles and bracken forming a tangled mess that appeared to be as high as Bilbo’s waist. The trees were all straight and tall but crowded and blocking what was behind. Unlike the woods of the Shire, Mirkwood appeared dark and brooding.</p><p> </p><p>“I explained my Grandfather was driven,” Thorin began and then sighed. “In truth, his sanity was suspect and he pushed the law in his quest to reclaim Erebor from the gangs and criminals.”</p><p> </p><p>“Meaning…?”</p><p> </p><p>“He crossed the line.” The words were heavy. “He arrested Thranduil’s wife-on some trumped up charge that would never stick in any court-and held her in custody <em>without trial</em> to try to force him to quit or turn into an informant for Erebor PD.”</p><p> </p><p>“He held her <em>hostage</em>?” Bilbo’s eyes widened in shock. A grim smile twisted Thorin’s mouth.</p><p> </p><p>“Not the actions of a man who is an officer of the law but rather those of someone who believes in a Mahal-given mission to clean up Erebor,” he admitted. “He was losing sight of reality, of what mattered. He was prepared to stoop as low as or lower than them just to achieve his aims. Without remembering that if we lose sight of the law, we have lost.” He stopped and glared at the road ahead. “She was terrified. So…” He paused and Bilbo found himself holding his breath. “I released her without Thror’s permission. I took her to the border of Mirkwood and let her go home.” He shrugged. “Thranduil co-operated a little…nothing major but he did give enough tips to help Thror bring down the competing gangs.” He paused and his voice lowered. “Thror wasn’t impressed by my actions.”</p><p> </p><p>“You did the right thing,” Bilbo assured him.</p><p> </p><p>“Thranduil remains a danger and he loathes our family because of Thror’s actions,” he sighed. “Remain polite and alert. Say nothing controversial. You have a connection to his son and that is the only reason that Thranduil will have anything to do with us. Leave the talking to me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Because you’re so diplomatic,” the Librarian muttered. “And happy and smiling and easy to get along with…”</p><p> </p><p>“I know Thranduil,” Thorin insisted shortly. “And that bastard will gloat.”</p><p> </p><p>“But will he help?” Bilbo asked and there was a long pause. As the seconds lengthened, he inspected Thorin’s profile again. “Will he?”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know…” The words were quiet. “But we no longer have any choice.” Turning away, Bilbo stared out of the window and sighed, watching the trees flash by as Thorin barrelled down the road. He could almost imagine that he saw motion amid the trees, strange creatures moving slowly and webs slung between the upper branches. He blinked and cursed his overactive imagination. He really hadn’t helped himself when he mentioned Ungoliant. He had read the legends, enthralled by the tales of Valinor and the two trees, the legends of the Silmarils and the great war between Morgoth and the Noldor that took up the First Age. He could almost imagine the foul arachnid, prowling between the gloomy trees, waiting to snatch up some unwary mortal…</p><p> </p><p>He started as something emerged from between he trunks and gave a small, unmanly squeak that coincided with a vicious curse in Khuzdul from Thorin.</p><p> </p><p>Quad bikes burst from among the trees, the riders all wearing green leathers and helmets of green and black with opaque black visors that concealed them completely. The only clues were their long hair, flying behind them. Bilbo noted all were a pale blond save one, the leader, who had long fiery red hair. Glancing around, he realised that they were flanked by six riders on each side, machine guns slung over their shoulders but not making any move.</p><p> </p><p>“Thranduil has sent us an escort,” Thorin growled. His hands tightened on the steering wheel, knuckles showing white as Bilbo glanced at the riders.</p><p> </p><p>“And they’re armed,” he commented. Thorin nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“Play along,” he advised, forcing his breathing to calm. “The more harmless you appear, the more likely he is to help you. No matter what he thinks of me…” There was a grim edge to his voice. “And leave any weapons in the car.” Bilbo frowned and then shrugged: he had left the gun Fili gave him back under his pillow. Groaning, Thorin fished out Orcrist and slid it under the steering column into a space that hardly seemed to exist. “I’m not letting his men get their hands on my weapon,” he muttered as they rounded a curve and the riders gestured to a side-road. Slowing, Thorin steered them onto a wide track that dived down into a cave a mere hundred metres later. And finally, they stopped, the riders circling them as the engine switched off and the two occupants of the car unfastened their seat belts. Casting the nervous Librarian a not-very-reassuring look, Thorin climbed out of the car.</p><p> </p><p>He was immediately surrounded and a forest of machine guns pointed at him. Slowly, he raised his hands as the leader removed her helmet to reveal a tall, elegant woman with long flaming red hair and the delicate features of Thranduil’s people.</p><p> </p><p>“Search him,” she commanded, her voice low and free of accent. Instantly, two men roughly patted Thorin down, the examination very thorough and designed to be humiliating. His face locked in a scowl, he remained still, even when their hands groped him very personally. Finally, one slid a hand under his leather trousers and drew out a small pistol from an ankle holster. The woman’s eyes narrowed.</p><p> </p><p>“You dare bring a weapon to my Lord’s realm?” she hissed.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re more naive than you look is you expect me to come here unarmed,” Thorin retorted. Bilbo winced.</p><p> </p><p>“Bind him!” the woman snapped, watching dispassionately as his arms were forced behind his back and bound tightly with cable. Then the woman turned to Bilbo. “My men will check you for weapons,” she said shortly and he nodded dumbly. But his pat-down was much more civilised and gentler than Thorin’s and the guards seemed disappointed that he was completely clean. The woman bowed her head. “My name is Tauriel and I am my Lord Thranduil’s head of security,” she said by way of introduction. “I was ordered to conduct you to my Lord’s presence.” She cast Thorin an unfriendly look. “Please follow me.”</p><p> </p><p>Walking alongside the woman, Bilbo couldn’t help but look around the impressive dwelling of Thranduil, built deep within the forest. The architecture was like nothing he had ever seen, the walls soaring up and curved like the boughs of trees. The distant roof looked almost like the canopy of the forest and the trickle of water was everywhere. There seemed to be multiple levels and walkways and stairs wove through the enormous space. Part of Bilbo wondered how this place had been built but he guessed that it was very old and had simply been maintained by its owner rather than constructed. There had been rumours of a settlement in the woods for centuries, if not longer.</p><p> </p><p>Thranduil’s guards-wearing the same green uniform though without the motorcycle helmets-were stationed strategically and all very armed and Bilbo glimpsed corridors vanishing behind veils of heavy fabric and trailing branches, almost like the foliage of a weeping willow. It was like stepping back into a dream…or one of his older translations, set far in the past. He glanced around but the heavy, measured tread of Thorin’s boots reassured him that he was not alone in this strange place with people who seemed…rather more unfriendly than he would have hoped. Not for the first time, he wondered why Thorin thought this was ever going to be a good idea.</p><p> </p><p>And then they emerged into a wide chamber, similar to a lecture theatre in size, with a raised dais holding-of all things-a wooden throne carved from a single trunk of an ancient elm. And seated in the throne was a tall, elegant man with waist-length white-blond hair, so straight it made Bilbo’s eyes water. The man had pale silver eyes and flawless skin, his expression a mixture of bored and cruel. His shape was clothed in a silver-green silk suit that shimmered as he shifted. Tauriel bowed and Bilbo sketched a small bow as well, uncertain of the protocol but reckoning that politeness couldn’t hurt. In fact, as he looked, he could see the vague similarities between Legolas and his father: the hair, the shape of the nose, the look in the eyes. But that look changed from bored to fired with anger and hatred as Thorin was forced forward and made to stand by Bilbo’s side.</p><p> </p><p>“Oakenshield,” Thranduil spat, leaning forward and glaring. His elegant, almost ethereal face suddenly transformed into something much more prosaic and ugly as he allowed his dislike of the policeman show. “I thought you weren’t that stupid.”</p><p> </p><p>“I accepted your word…because this isn’t about me,” Thorin forced himself to say, his tone dark. Bilbo glanced from man to man, recognising the abiding dislike between the two. Thranduil drew back his lips in a snarl.</p><p> </p><p>“You imagine that is so,’ he hissed. “But you really don’t understand what is going on, do you?”</p><p> </p><p>“Mr Baggins here is being stalked by Smaug and there is no reason,” Thorin growled. “You and your organisation have contacts and may know why he is being hunted.” The other man scarcely spared Bilbo a glance.</p><p> </p><p>“There is a reason,” he sneered.</p><p> </p><p>“Which is…?” It was clear from his tone that Thorin was hanging onto his temper with his fingernails.</p><p> </p><p>“Smaug wants to,” Thranduil taunted them and Thorin almost growled in his throat.</p><p> </p><p>“There is nothing that Smaug does that isn’t planned to the nth degree,” he replied in a rough voice. “You don’t know, do you?” Thranduil bridled at the accusation before his face adopted an even uglier look.</p><p> </p><p>“You should look to your own safety,” he scoffed. “Smaug wants you.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s nothing new,” Thorin replied sharply.</p><p> </p><p>“And your dear little nephews?” Thranduil wanted him as Thorin stiffened. “Azog has boasted he wants to sever their heads as he did your grandfather.’ Bilbo flinched at turned to look at his friend, seeing the man pale with fury, trembling as he fought to cling to his temper.</p><p> </p><p>“Azog will never get his hands on them,” Thorin breathed.</p><p> </p><p>“No?” Thranduil scorned him. “I bet you know where they are…and there is a very generous reward to wipe out the House of Durin.” He leaned forward. “You didn’t think changing your name fooled anyone?”</p><p> </p><p>“What is Smaug planning?” Thorin pressed, ignoring the jibe. He was glaring as if he was ready to leap and rip out the other man’s throat, however. Thranduil sat back with a sneer on his face. “You don’t imagine he’ll tolerate you to exist for much longer? The Goblins were wiped out because they didn’t fit into Smaug’s vision of his empire. Sooner or later, you will be next.”</p><p> </p><p>“My defences are much harder to penetrate,” Thranduil snapped and waved a hand. “And my actions will defuse any suspicion…for the moment.” He nodded and hands grabbed Thorin’s shoulders and boots slammed into the back of his knees, forcing him to kneel. “I’ll offer him…you.” Bilbo started and opened his mouth to protest but Thorin cast him enough of a glance to make him snap his mouth shut. And finally Thranduil rose to his feet.</p><p> </p><p>He was<em> tall</em>, Bilbo thought with a mixture of admiration and envy. Taller even that Thorin and incredibly elegant. Yavanna-he seemed to glide across the floor, every motion measured and graceful. But he ruined the effect by fisting a handful of Thorin’s hair and hauling the man’s head up so he was forced to face him.</p><p> </p><p>“Did you have any intention of honouring your word and assisting the man who enabled your son to succeed?” the police officer snapped. “Or are you the same faithless worm that my grandfather sought to arrest?”</p><p> </p><p>The sound of a slap rang round the room and Thorin’s head snapped round with the impact. Thranduil’s eyes were almost glowing with rage. Swallowing, Thorin looked back, his lip split by the impact of Thranduil’s ring.</p><p> </p><p>“You dare speak of breaking your word?” the criminal spat.</p><p> </p><p>“Who released your wife?” Thorin spat back. There was a pause as Thranduil turned away.</p><p> </p><p>“Send word to Bolg that we have Oakenshield and will hand him over for the agreed reward,” he said airily. “Take him to the cells and see if you can persuade him to divulge the location of his nephews. But he is not the killed…though you can harm him as much as you feel necessary…” The guards grabbed Thorin’s arms and dragged him back as he glanced over at Bilbo. The smaller man was looking pale but looked as if he was ready to protest at his escort’s treatment until he caught Thorin’s expression and the single, slight shake of his head. Shoulders sagging, Bilbo watched as he nodded once and then struggled against his captors but in the end, he was hauled out, leaving Thranduil, Tauriel and the Librarian in the room. And finally Thranduil turned to him.</p><p> </p><p>“What are we going to do with you?” he said.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter Thirteen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>THIRTEEN:</b>
</p><p> </p><p>“What are we going to do with you?” Thranduil asked, eyeing Bilbo knowingly. The Librarian met the cool gaze with a lot more equanimity than he felt, unsure what he could say to such a volatile and unpredictable man.</p><p> </p><p>“I was hoping, my Lord, that you could at least help explain why Smaug wants me so badly,” he sighed. Thranduil stared for a moment longer than was strictly necessary, his unblinking gaze seeming to bore into Bilbo’s soul before he finally turned away. As he settled into the throne once more, he nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“Perhaps you could explain how you managed to become involved with Smaug,” Thranduil invited, his tone softer and more reasonable. He waved a hand and an unseen functionary brought forward a stool for Bilbo to sit upon and a tray with glass cups of steaming cardamon tea. Accepting one with a polite ‘thank you’ in Sindarin, Bilbo launched into a concise version of his sorry story. Sipping his own tea, Thranduil made sympathetic noises and nodded at the right times before Bilbo lapsed into silence, the glass cup clasped firmly in his trembling hands.</p><p> </p><p>“So here we are,” Bilbo finished lamely.</p><p> </p><p>“And you really are a Librarian?” Thranduil checked. “Not a spy or agent or…anything of more value?” Feeling the prickle of annoyance, Bilbo nodded while carefully keeping his face neutral.</p><p> </p><p>“Alas, I’m a simple ancient Sindarin and Quenya scholar and Librarian who went on the wrong date,” he explained. “Sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>“No-I can see what Smaug sees in you” Thranduil commented, a covetous note entering his voice. “You are rather cute.” Unable to stop it, Bilbo blushed, feeling as if his cheeks were on fire. Not that he was in any way attracted to this tall, pale and very supercilious man who had just had his friend taken away to be interrogated. And honestly, Bilbo had decided his type was <em>definitely</em> fit, handsome, raven hair, blue eyes, tendency to scowl…or glare…and a not very good sense of direction…</p><p> </p><p>“So why is he hounding me?” he asked faintly. Thranduil blinked slowly.</p><p> </p><p>“Rumour has it that you may have overheard something…something that he wants silenced,” he revealed, sipping his tea once more. Blinking, Bilbo stared. He had mentally erased most of the details of the date because he had been so struck by how menacing and unsavoury Smaug had seemed and how unpleasant and unnerving the whole episode was. <em>So had he actually heard something…or was it all another horrible mistake…? </em>Slowly, he shook his head.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t recall hearing anything…” he murmured, his brow knotted with perplexity. “Honestly, all I was concentrating on was how soon I could say I was tired and get away from that date.” To his surprise, Thranduil chuckled.</p><p> </p><p>“I always imagined Smaug wouldn’t be blessed with an abundance of social graces,” he commented.</p><p> </p><p>“You have no idea,” Bilbo sighed, finishing his tea. “I don’t suppose you could maybe tell him I don’t recall anything?” There was a pause and then Thranduil laughed, the sound clear and echoing in the chamber.</p><p> </p><p>“I fear he would not credit my word, Mr Baggins,” he explained kindly. “And if he has decided that you are a threat, he will eliminate you just to be sure.” Bilbo almost squeaked in shock.</p><p> </p><p>“But that’s unfair when I’m only a threat to people who talk among the stacks and return books late!” he protested. Thranduil laughed again.</p><p> </p><p>“I could keep you here-for protection…” he offered but there was an edge to his voice, the covetous look again in his eye that had the smaller man shying back, twisting his hands.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not sure that would help,” he sighed as Thranduil sat back.</p><p> </p><p>“How do you know Oakenshield?” he demanded, his voice and face suddenly cold. Somewhere, deep inside, Bilbo realised the previous good humour had been an act and that Thranduil was testing him like a rat in a maze. He opted for the truth.</p><p> </p><p>“He was the officer assigned to protect me by Erebor police,” he explained. “He and the others in his ‘Company’ have been trying to keep me safe.” Thranduil raised a pale eyebrow.</p><p> </p><p>“And are they?” he asked sarcastically.</p><p> </p><p>“More or less,” Bilbo shrugged. “I think about four of them are certifiable and their ideas of safe certainly differ to mine…or most right thinking people, really…”</p><p> </p><p>“He’s a loose cannon,” Thranduil warned him coldly. “He has personal history with Smaug and he’ll abandon you and everyone if he can serve his own personal vengeance.” Bilbo blinked.</p><p> </p><p>“So why did you lock him up?” he asked, wide-eyed. Thranduil balled his fist and rested his chin on the hand.</p><p> </p><p>“Years back, his grandfather-the former crime commissioner-arrested my wife in a plot to force me to surrender myself and become an informer!” he spat. “An officer of the law incarcerating an innocent woman, someone against whom there were no charges and who never committed a crime in her life.” In Bilbo’s opinion, the anger was justified.</p><p> </p><p>“That sounds…illegal,” he offered warily. A thin smile crossed the taller man’s face.</p><p> </p><p>“It is. She was freed but I knew then that I could not trust a Durin,” he said sneered, causing Bilbo’s stomach to drop. His instincts were telling him that the chances of this ending well were incredibly small.</p><p> </p><p>“It is sad when family are penalised for the actions of their forebears,” Bilbo murmured. “Um…how is Legolas, by the way?” Thranduil’s face cleared and for the first time, a smile lifted his thin lips which actually reached his silver eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“He is well,” he admitted. “And he remains very grateful to you for your assistance in his Final assessment.” An indulgent look entered his eyes. “He is a smart and intelligent young man but sometimes, he lacks the application and insight to truly achieve. I owe you a debt…which is why what I must do is even more regrettable.” Bilbo’s eyes widened.</p><p> </p><p>“What is that?” he asked, a note trepidation entering his voice. In front of him, Thranduil looked up and a strong hand grasped Bilbo’s arm.</p><p> </p><p>“I have to do what is best for me and mine-including my son,” Thranduil explained, his tone almost apologetic. “And handing over the prize that Smaug is seeking will buy us time and what passes for goodwill from Firewyrm and the Gundabads. So I am sorry. It is poor payment for your help for my son…but I have sent word to Smaug. He will collect you and then…” He shrugged. “Good day, Mr Baggins.”</p><p> </p><p>“I really really doubt it,” Bilbo murmured as Tauriel pulled him to his feet and led him away. He knew there was no point in resisting so instead, he concentrated on trying to memorise the way and tune in to the softly spoken words of the guards as he was led down a long winding stair to the lower levels. “Today is definitely not a good day.”</p><p> </p><p>-o0o-</p><p> </p><p>“They should be back by now.” Fili’s words echoed around the chamber as everyone concentrated very hard on appearing unconcerned by the absence of their leader. However, it was long after dark with not even a word and there was a discernible air of tension running through the base. Dwalin had stripped down and reassembled Grasper and Keeper three times and had shot the targets to pieces with Bifur and Gloin while Balin had inspected the maps of Greenwood and Orc and Nori were hitting the computers for all they were worth. Bombur had prepared enough food for fifty men and was currently making a mountain of chapatis. Bofur was whittling as if his life depended on it.</p><p> </p><p>“We know, laddie,” Balin conceded. “But they aren’t.”</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe they’re just spending the night with Thranduil?” Kili offered. “It could be a gesture of goodwill…”</p><p> </p><p>Dwalin snorted.</p><p> </p><p>“Cutting his own throat is the own gesture of goodwill from Thranduil that Thorin would recognise or welcome,” he growled as his older brother tutted and glanced up.</p><p> </p><p>“I doubt that would help diplomacy, brother,” Balin commented amiably. “And the old spider is too self-centred to rid us of his existence.”</p><p> </p><p>“I can’t see Thorin staying the night voluntarily,” Fili insisted.</p><p> </p><p>“Neither can I, laddie,” Balin conceded, walking slowly to peer at Bombur’s tower of chapatis. “He would try to come home through a hurricane or the worst blizzard, rather than spending a second more in Thranduil’s home. No matter the time, he would make his way back…”</p><p> </p><p>“He could have got lost?” Bofur suggested.</p><p> </p><p>“He has Bilbo with him,” Kili interjected hopefully. There was a pause.</p><p> </p><p>“Bilbo’s phone is still in Mirkwood,” Nori revealed, pursing his lips. “Thorin’s as well. And the car.”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t think they ever left,” Ori added. Dwalin folded his arms.</p><p> </p><p>“So that’s the way it is,” he growled. “Knew Thranduil couldn’t be trusted.” Balin nodded, his eyes thoughtful.</p><p> </p><p>“If they remain there, it will hardly be voluntary,” he reasoned calmly. “So we should ensure we retrieve what is ours…” There was a sigh.</p><p> </p><p>“How is that going to go?” Fili asked. “Mirkwood have their own security and are armed-even though they rarely go beyond their borders…”</p><p> </p><p>“We’re fighters,” Kili reminded him, his eyes glittering with enthusiasm. “I doubt they could match us…”</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe not in skill but in numbers, they have the beating of us,” Balin corrected him.</p><p> </p><p>“Stealth’s our best option,” Nori added, frowning.</p><p> </p><p>“You mean we’re not all going in mob-handed,” Bofur grumbled.</p><p> </p><p>“Dwalin, Bifur and I will go in to negotiate,” Balin decided. There was a stunned silence. Fili blinked.</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry-I thought you said Dwalin and Bifur were going to negotiate,” he said incredulously. “Dwalin only knows one way to negotiate and that usually leaves the other personal unable to speak or unconscious. And Bifur…isn’t chatty!”</p><p> </p><p>“The lad has a point,” Bofur put in.</p><p> </p><p>“Hardly a trio who all possess the diplomatic skills to get our men out of there,” Dori commented, sipping his tea.</p><p> </p><p>“Which is why Fili, Kili and I will also be going,” Nori commented. “They talk while we get the others out.” Kili was on his feet in an instant.</p><p> </p><p>“When do we leave?” he asked. Balin sighed.</p><p> </p><p>“First light,” he said, then beckoned the group to come close. They occupied the largest table as Bombur bought them a plate of filled chapatis and potato scones. “Okay…here’s the plan…”</p><p> </p><p>-o0o-</p><p> </p><p>Bilbo was getting worried because he had been sitting in his cell for hours with no sign of Thorin. The ‘cell’ was more like a twelve foot wide recess in the damp sandstone wall of the cellar divided into two equal parts and penned in by floor to ceiling bars. There was a door in the bars of the ‘front’ of the cell to let him in and out and a blanket on the floor. A bucket was placed in the corner of the cell. The adjacent cell was empty but similarly appointed and in his heart, Bilbo hoped that was Thorin’s cell…though he guessed Thranduil could just as easily separate them. Though it would gain him little and double the number of men needed to watch the prisoners…</p><p> </p><p>He jerked awake, blinking. The cells were illuminated by soft white lights in the roof of the corridor and it was difficult to tell the time-except by glancing at his battered wristwatch, the slightly scratched face familiar and the battered strap the same one his father had worn before his death. The watch had been Bungo Baggins’ pride and he had bequeathed it to his son because he trusted Bilbo to look after it-but the sight and feel of it was reassuring. Looking up owlishly and groaning at the crick in his neck he had acquired from sleeping huddled against the bars, he realised there were steps approaching and he straightened up as three shapes approached and wrenched the door of the neighbouring cell open. Thorin was shoved unceremoniously in and he stumbled before dropping to his knees, His coat was thrown to the floor and the guards retreated without another word but Bilbo scrambled to the wall of bars between them and inspected his friend.</p><p> </p><p>“Thorin? Are you okay?” he asked urgently. Nodding, Thorin looked up. He looked exhausted and drawn, his searing blue gaze dulled as he saw the Librarian.</p><p> </p><p>“I am fine,” he assured the other man gruffly, turning to grab his coat and hesitating enough to worry Bilbo.</p><p> </p><p>“What did they do? Are you unhurt? Are…”</p><p> </p><p>“Bilbo!” Thorin interrupted, his tone firm. He scrambled to rest against the back of the cell hard by the bars dividing their cells. “There is nothing I would not do to protect my nephews. You know that. But though Thranduil is a vengeful old spider, his men are more pragmatic and know that getting answers by violence tends to yield whatever the abusers want to hear…but not the truth.” He gave a grim smile. “And they could tell I would not be co-operative. So they tried an alternative tack to loosen my tongue: they made me stand without rest and yelled questions at me. Not that they earned any answers. But I’ve got a headache from their attentions-nothing worse.” Bilbo’s brows dipped and a cynical expression crossed his face but he kept his tongue. Instead, he passed the remaining water in his cell through to Thorin and watched the police officer drink it thirstily.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m disappointed at Thranduil,” he murmured. “He said he owed me for helping his son but he still intends to hand me over to Smaug.” Thorin looked up. “You know he told me that he thought I had overheard something? But I honestly can’t remember anything he said…” Thorin wiped his mouth.</p><p> </p><p>“That makes more sense,” he conceded as he wrapped his coat around his body and closed his eyes. “Wake me when anyone comes. We need to get out of here.”</p><p> </p><p>“But how?” Bilbo asked, his eyes flicking worriedly towards the corridor.</p><p> </p><p>“I have a plan,” Thorin murmured. But he said no more as his breathing evened out into sleep, leaving Bilbo brooding in his cell.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Great. Now I’m locked up and about to be handed over to the murderous psychopath along with the man supposed to be protecting me who seems to be more hunted than I am. Oh and I am still seriously wishing I had gone on the date with Thorin not Smaug and that officially makes me the saddest man in Arda. I mean a proper date, not being locked up in cells in Mirkwood…</em>
</p><p> </p><p>He glanced over at Thorin, safely asleep, and covered his face. It was still very early and he had no clue how they could escape. Strangely, he was missing the Company and wondered if he would ever see them again. He wondered what would happen to Fili and Kili if they didn’t come back: the boys had lost so much already and amid his misery, a kernel of determination hardened. They were going to get out of here and he would find some way to get Thorin back home to his nephews.</p><p> </p><p>And maybe he could try to think back to what he was supposed to have overheard.</p><p> </p><p>-o0o-</p><p> </p><p>The jeep barrelled up the forest road towards Thranduil’s stronghold, unannounced and definitely unexpected. The three men inside all appeared grim and paid no heed to the quad bikers who flanked them and gestured rather aggressively to them with their guns.Behind the wheel, Dwalin scowled at the riders and put his foot down, not deviating and was rewarded by them falling back for a few second before they caught up again. The leader, her long red hair rippling in the wind, gestured more aggressively towards the right and the jeep turned down the track towards the stronghold.</p><p> </p><p>Dwalin was grumbling to himself as they parked up and got out, leaving their weapons the car. Tauriel pulled her helmet off as the others surrounded the intruders.</p><p> </p><p>“State your name and purpose,” she said brusquely, her eyes sweeping over the trio. Balin smiled benignly.</p><p> </p><p>“I am Balin Fundinson, second in command of the company of Thorin Oakenshield,” he introduced himself. “My brother Dwalin and our associate, Bifur Urson.” Tauriel flicked her cool gaze over the unfriendly looks she was garnering.</p><p> </p><p>“And your purpose?” she snapped. Balin sighed, though he remained smiling.</p><p> </p><p>“We seek answers to the fate of our colleagues,” he said.</p><p> </p><p>“Why…?”</p><p> </p><p>“They came here!” Dwalin growled before his brother could raise a hand and silence him.</p><p> </p><p>“They negotiated to come to your Lord Thranduil for information,” Balin said amiably. “And we know they never left. So we have to ask why?” Tauriel’s face lost its expression.</p><p> </p><p>“How do you know…?” she began but Balin’s expression grew disappointed.</p><p> </p><p>“Lass-I know your master despises Thorin but we are all professionals,” he reminded her. “We tracked their phones. And of course, that’s Thorin’s car over there…” He gestured to the silver car, still parked in the underground garage and the woman had the grace to blush slightly. “And of course, we do have trackers in our cars.” She pursed her lips.</p><p> </p><p>“I think you should speak to my lord,” she murmured as Dwalin leaned closer to his brother.</p><p> </p><p>“Blasted tree shaggers have reneged on the deal,” he growled. Bifur nodded. Giving a determined expression of god humour, Balin followed Tauriel.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes-yes, I think they have,” he said evenly. “And I don’t trust Thranduil as far as I can throw him. Just remember the plan. And Dwalin?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes?”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t hit anyone until I give you permission.”</p><p> </p><p>-o0o-</p><p> </p><p>Bilbo almost didn’t hear the footsteps as a tall, slender shape rounded the corner, pale silvery eyes widening as he glimpsed the huddled shape of the Librarian in the cage.</p><p> </p><p>“Bilbo!”</p><p> </p><p>Straightening up, he almost missed Thorin tensing and his eyes opening just a crack, observing the newcomer while still giving the impression of being asleep. But his chest filled with relief at the sight of a familiar face at last.</p><p> </p><p>“Legolas! Thank Yavanna you’re here!”</p><p> </p><p>"I just got back from a surfing holiday on the Belfalas Coast,” the young man explained, his grin enthusiastic and warm. His long white-blond hair was straight and perfect as his father’s but there was no guile in his expression. “My friend Aragorn had rented a villa and we had an amazing time-but Adar wanted me to start apprenticing in the business…” Then he shook himself. “Why are you here?”</p><p> </p><p>Bilbo sighed.</p><p> </p><p>“I found myself in a spot of bother and foolishly came to ask your father for some information that may help get me out,” he sighed and then explained. Legolas’s eyes widened and by the end of the explanation, he was sighing.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry,” he said genuinely. “My father is many things-and he believes that he is protecting me and our lands from the ravages of Gundabads and the Firewyrms…but even I know they are faithless and what he has done will achieve…nothing.”</p><p> </p><p>“Did you just call him an asshole?” Bilbo checked, a small smile lifting his lips. Legolas chuckled and shook his head.</p><p> </p><p>“I would never use such a disrespectful term,” he protested lightly. “An oath-breaking tree shagging liar maybe.”</p><p> </p><p>“Tree shagging?”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s an epithet commonly applied to my ancestors by Dwarrow-descendents,” he explained, causing Bilbo’s eyes to widen in surprise at the term. “And yes, I used the word ‘Dwarrow’. I think my father and his generation forget the world is much more interconnected now and perhaps treating our neighbours with respect will be a better means of keeping allies and preventing our true enemies from winning than insulting potential partners and seeking battles that need not happen.”</p><p> </p><p>“You know, you are so much smarter than Thranduil,” Bilbo commented but Legolas actually blushed.</p><p> </p><p>“You actually persuaded me that treating outsiders well was the way to go,” he confessed. “Notwithstanding you spoke ancient Sindarin and Quenya better than I ever have, you have a much more tolerant attitude to everyone than any person I have ever met.”</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe because in the Shire, we don’t have a legacy of other races treating us badly,” Bilbo commented. “Or if they have, we’ve relegated it to history rather than keeping the bad feelings alive and bearing grudges.” Legolas unlocked the cell.</p><p> </p><p>“Come on,” he urged Bilbo. “I’ll get you out of here…” But Bilbo stopped at the door of his cell.</p><p> </p><p>“And my friend,” he insisted. The young man groaned.</p><p> </p><p>“Adar does have a grievance with him-and gifting him to the Gundabads is already in progress,” he explained. “Their second in command, Bolg, is expected in the hour.”</p><p> </p><p>“All the more reason to get him away,” Bilbo insisted stubbornly, retreating into his cell. Legolas looked exasperated.</p><p> </p><p>“I can’t go against my father in this,” he hissed. “That man locked up my mother on trumped up charges!”</p><p> </p><p>“Actually, I believe it was his rather insane grandfather and there were no charges at all,” Bilbo corrected him. “From what I understand, Thorin freed your mother against the wishes of his grandfather…” He stole a look at the officer, still feigning sleep at the back of the cell. “And reading between the lines, sounds like he copped some serious flak for doing so. He’s not guilty of that crime. In fact, you owe him thanks as well.”</p><p> </p><p>“Bilbo,” he hissed. “This is dangerous.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, I know-I have had people shooting at me, stalking me, murdering my cat, blowing up my cousins….” the Librarian hissed back. “You father has behaved reprehensibly! So either you let us <em>both</em> out or you’re as bad as he is!”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re killing me!” the younger man groaned but finally, he unlocked Thorin’s cell as well. “Come on…” In a second, Thorin was up, dragging on on his coat and walking to the door. He nodded to the younger man.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you,” he said in a low voice. Legolas shook his head.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m doing this for Bilbo.”</p><p> </p><p>“That makes two of us,” Thorin acknowledged, his voice low. “I mean you no harm, boy. My only issues are with those who threaten Bilbo and those who murdered my family.”</p><p> </p><p>“The same people your father seeks to deal with,” Bilbo offered. Instantly, Legolas turned away.</p><p> </p><p>“Come on!” he hissed. “You need to get away before anyone notices…” Thorin fell in step behind Bilbo, his larger shape reassuring.</p><p> </p><p>“Stay close,” he murmured. “And don’t worry, Master Baggins. We will escape.” But Bilbo was concerned.</p><p> </p><p>“Except Bolg will be here and they seem to watch the main road,” he murmured. Legolas shook his head.</p><p> </p><p>“You won’t be taking the main road,” he said.</p><p> </p><p>-o0o-</p><p> </p><p>Once the garage was cleared, the trunk of the jeep clicked open and Fili and Kili stiffly flopped out, trying to stretch out the kinks from their cramped accommodations.</p><p> </p><p>“Whose idea was this?” Kili grumbled, stretching his back with an audible crack. The back seat moved and Nori achingly clambered out of the concealed compartment.</p><p> </p><p>“Mine,” he snarked, checking that they were still jamming the cameras. Bifur had quietly clipped a small interface device to the cable as they had wandered out, allowing Ori to loop the garage footage and prevent anyone seeing what they were doing.</p><p> </p><p>“Thorin’s car,” Fili murmured and ran over, checking for signs of a fight and expertly retrieving Orcrist from its hiding place. He stared at the weapon. “They’re still here.” He tucked the weapon into his waistband. “Thorin would never leave without his gun.”</p><p> </p><p>“Very touching-but not our mission,” Nori reminded them sharply, grabbing his pack. “I’ll place these while you find Thorin and Bilbo. Take no risks.”</p><p> </p><p>“Risks? Us?” Kili asked with a grin as his older brother gently slapped him upside his head.</p><p> </p><p>“Understood,” he muttered and they vanished into the base, glancing at their phones for the location where Ori had identified the pair being stationary for some hours. It took longer than they had anticipated, trying to evade the guards-but when they reached the cells, they found them empty. There was a horrible moment.</p><p> </p><p>“They’re not here,” Kili hissed.</p><p> </p><p>“No,” Fili murmured, glancing around.</p><p> </p><p>“We’ve got to find them!” Kili insisted.</p><p> </p><p>“Where?’ his brother asked him. “We can’t just randomly wander the base until we get captured or until we possibly stumble across them.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why not?”</p><p> </p><p>“Did the ‘until we get captured’ bit not register?” Fili grunted. His brother was unabashed.</p><p> </p><p>“You really are no fun. And what about Thorin? You know he wouldn’t have given up on us!” the younger brother insisted.</p><p> </p><p>“And he wouldn’t want us blundering around and getting captured…” Fili insisted and then paused. In a second, he hauled his brother into an alcove and slapped his hand over Kili’s mouth, hardly daring to breathe at the sounds of guards’ footsteps. Craning their necks, they saw six armed guards flanking three familiar shapes. Silently peering round the corner, they watched them shove their friends into a bank of three cells set into the wall of the corridor, just round the corner from their position. Balin and Bifur took things with equanimity though Dwain was cussing and growling a litany of Khuzdul insults. Fili winced.</p><p> </p><p>“Amad would have grounded us for months for that sort of language,” Kili whispered as the guards locked the doors and then withdrew. Pausing for a long time to listen, they sneaked round the corner and peeked at their comrades.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, that could have gone better,” Balin sighed.</p><p> </p><p>“It went as well as I was expecting,” Dwalin growled at him.</p><p> </p><p>“It would have gone better if you hadn’t implied Thranduil would rather be enjoying conjugal relations with an Elk!” Balin reminded in, his tone exasperated. “We didn’t exactly get any questions answered.”</p><p> </p><p>“Not even the name of the Elk,” Bifur muttered. Balin scowled at him.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t encourage him,” he grumbled as the brothers popped up round the corner.</p><p> </p><p>“I take it the diplomacy didn’t work,” Fili commented. “Though your team wasn’t exactly the most diplomatic.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thank Mahal!” Balin sighed. “You’ve found them?”</p><p> </p><p>The brother shared a look that had the three prisoners all freezing.</p><p> </p><p>“Lads?” Balin asked.</p><p> </p><p>“They’ve vanished,” Kili admitted.</p><p> </p><p>“Vanished? How?” Dwalin demanded as the brothers walked forward.</p><p> </p><p>“They’re not in the cells,” Fili admitted. “We have already seen the other cells on our way here. You’re the only prisoners…”</p><p> </p><p>“Then where…” Balin began as klaxons began to sound.</p>
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